


Unbound

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-02
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 101,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Archer, Tucker, and T'Pol engage in a first contact with a strange new species.





	1. Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers through Season 3.  


* * *

It was not what the Vulcan had anticipated but she was fast becoming used to having to adjust her expectations. Captain Archer was smiling happily. Nodding in affable high content at the Zenari Ambassador. Sub-Commander T'Pol knew little about this species. As intrigued as the Captain she was surprised by the alien contact. When the Vulcans had first met this race almost a hundred years ago things had not gone well. Angry words had been exchanged then weapons fire. That had been the one and only contact. It had been described euphemistically as a misunderstanding that not even Surak could have presented in a positive light. She was therefore astounded to witness the Humans suceeding where her own people had so comprehensively failed. It both fascinated and irked her.

T'Pol could feel Commander Tucker's eyes on her but resisted the urge to turn her head. If he was smirking she was not sure she would be able to resist the urge to render him comatose. Belatedly she realised the Captain was introducing her.

"...and this is my First Officer, Sub-Commander T'Pol."

The Zenari Ambassador sounded cautious. His large round liquid black eyes shining like glossy pools of oil. She could not see the spark of intelligence but sensed a very different kind of consciousness staring back at her. It was unsettling. All T'Pol's senses were on the alert. His reaction made her even more wary. "A...Vulcan?"

Captain Archer sounded surprised. "You have met the Vulcans before I take it?"

Their host managed to agree and give the impression of distaste and disapproval without doing so overtly. It was such a subtle nuance she was not sure if the Humans picked up on it. The Ambassador made an odd little choking sound in his throat. The Captain resisted the urge to slap him on the back to clear his airway. For all he knew the Ambassador could have been chuckling politely. "Yess," He hissed slightly, his voice crackling like dry leaves on a fire. "Many revolutions ago. We did not make friendship."

Sub-Commander T'Pol inclined her head slightly. "I regret that our two species did not see eye to eye Ambassador Chot. I hope that will not be the case on this occasion."

The Ambassador blinked back at her but said nothing. Something in the dip of a shoulder made the Captain think he was willing to at least with hold making any judgement. He felt the concession was made for the sake of the Humans not to make the Vulcan more welcome. Once again he was grateful to Ensign Hoshi Sato's skill in programming the alien language into the universal translator. He almost regretted leaving Hoshi back on Enterprise with Lt Reed and the others but he wanted to keep the away team small this time. Less people to risk if anything went wong. Just him, Commander Tucker, and Sub-Commander T'Pol. Lt Reed had argued virolently to get him to take a security detail with him but the Captain had refused. He knew that the Lieutenant would be anxiously listening in on their conversations with the Zenari with one eye on the transporter, the other on his weapons. He had left the pride of starfleet in the best possible hands. Hopefully it would not be long until they were all back on board with another successful first contact under their belt. With the impending war with the Xindi ahead of them they would need to garner all the friends and allies they could find. With luck this new species might even be able to help them win it.

Ambassador Chot led them into a huge atmospheric dome. Commander Tucker gazed around him with open admiration. The Captain could tell he was just itching to explore. A small smile dusted his lips. Their host was talking, other Zenari standing a polite distance away, their long crushed robes in shimmering dark colours that moved together like an oil slick, metallic colours swirling and mingling yet individual and distinct. Trip could not take his eyes off them. Longed to speak with them, see if they were all like Chot. The Ambassador seemed to divine his interest with ease and turned to speak to him. "Commander, you are curious?"

Trip nodded, a huge smile sweeping over his face. "Yeah, Ambassador. I've never seen anythin' like this!" His enthusiasm seemed to put the Zenari at considerable ease. "What kind of power runs something this big?"

Although the Zenari had no visible mouths the pale luminisence of their skin seemed to stretch and move as if hidden lips formed words trapped beneath their skin. What would have creeped him out once now simply intrigued him. The hairless head inclined slowly towards him as the alien spoke. "Our power is beyond what you would call sub-atomic, Commander. It is infinitely renewable and does not pollute our atmosphere."

"I would sure like to see how that works."

Ambassador Chot nodded to one of the other Zenari. Trip watched him all but glide across the floor towards them. He bowed slowly to the Ambassador and waited. Where the Ambassador's robe was jet black with a dark almost silver shimmer of light running through it, this man's robe was a deep midnight blue. When he moved the crushed folds flashed vivid blue highlights like lightening strikes drawing Trip's eyes to him in wonder. "Commander. This is our chief binary biomolecular engineer Hyak. He will be happy to give you a tour of the dome."

The Captain was about to interrupt. He did not want them to get separated even in a seemingly friendly first contact situation. As if anticipating his objection, the Ambassador turned to him and raised a delicatedly fingered hand. The hand had three fingers and an opposable thumb, all the digits longer than a human's. The pale skin of his flesh a stark contrast to the black eyes and dark robes they wore. "We have much to show you and share with you Captain but I ask one indulgence as a show of your good faith."

His interest piqued he concentrated fully on what the alien was saying. "What is that, Ambassador?"

"This is a delicate matter, Captain. We are shy of other races. Many are too volatile for us to accommodate with any comfort. Our first meeting with the Vulcans was.... not a pleasant one."

"I understand, Ambassador. Perhaps we can mend a few bridges while we're here."

"Bridges?" The confusion in the Ambassador's voice prompted T'Pol to speak.

"It is a human expression, Ambassador. It means reach an understanding."

"Tkt," Clicked the Ambassador. "In that case, Captain, we will respect your suggestion." He looked at Sub-Commander T'Pol for a moment and though his face showed no expression the Captain got the impression he was re-evaluating her presence.

The Captain turned to see where Commander Tucker had gone and noticed his friend was deep in discussion with a group of Zenari walking slowly around the circumference of the huge dome. They were now a good fifty yards away and appeared to be discussing something that looked like varigated light panels. Captain Archer could not tell from this distance what they were and was irritated to realise they were out of earshot. His curiosity would have been much better served had he been able to eavesdrop on what was being said.

"Captain?"

He turned a guilty gaze back to their host. "I'm sorry Ambassador, I was simply looking to see where the Commander had gone."

If he was expecting an explanation or an offer to catch them up he was sadly disappointed. "There is much to see, to discuss and to learn from each other." Said the Ambassador smoothly. "Perhaps you would like to see our operational centre?"

***

Lt Reed could not help it. He was as jumpy as a cat on hot bricks. With everything that had happened to them so far he would have thought Captain Archer would have finally grasped the necessity of keeping a security presence with him on away missions. Just because these new aliens looked and sounded benign did not make them harmless. It did not even make them friendly. They were an unknown quantity and now the three most senior members of the ship's crew were on some oddly shrouded planet with a bunch of mysterious aliens. It made him nervous enough to crawl out of his own skin. Admiral Forest had reluctantly agreed to the Captain's request for Enterprise to return to Earth to pick up a contingent of marines. Not something any of them wanted but at least it showed the Captain was taking the Xindi threat seriously which was a step in the right direction. So why oh why didn't he wait until he had the troops aboard before going into full diplomatic mode without anything more than goodwill to protect him? The man was far too trusting. With a sigh, Lt Reed hoped they would not all pay the price for that niave lack of foresight.

***

It was several hours before they were all together again. Commander Tucker positively beamed with pleasure, eyes bright with interest and not a little mischief when he caught T'Pol's disapproving eye. It was always fun to tease the Vulcan Sub-Commander though he was careful not to go too far. Ambassador Chot gave the Captain a slow bow and invited him to a meal to be held in their honour later that evening. The Captain hesitated, glancing at the Sub-Commander to see what the protocol would be. After all, her people had met the Zenari before, his had not. She merely arched an eyebrow and looked at him. So. No help there. He turned back to the Ambassador and smiled.

"We would be honoured, Ambassador."

Though he could not tell by any outward sign, Captain Archer got the impression he was pleased. "It is our considered opinion, Captain Archer, that the Zenari and Humans can be friends. Such an opening of trust is rare."

The Captain's smile broadened. He noticed Trip did not look surprised. "You don't know how happy it is to hear that, Ambassador."

"Please allow others to join you, Captain. Once we have eaten there will be long discussions between us. Your Commander seems to think our use of non-exhaustive power sources could be utilised to the benefit of your ship. It may be that you have some ideas that can be of benefit to us also."

Captain Archer beamed at him. This was going even better than he could have hoped and he was being given the opportunity to put Lt Reed's mind at rest by bringing down a security detail and other crew members. He nodded happily. "I would like nothing more."

Trip was tempted to remain with Hyak and get him to take him to the main power grid but one look at the Captain's face told him that would go down like a lead balloon. Holding his impatience in check he forced himself to make his temporary goodbyes and returned with the Captain and T'Pol. Once back on Enterprise Sub-Commander T'Pol wasted no time in making her own feelings known.

"Captain, you must not return."

All his pleasure evaporated into confusion. Lt Reed looked at them in alarm, his smile of welcome now a wary mask of concern. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." Snapped Trip. "The Sub-Commander's just bein' paranoid."

A look of cold anger simmered just below the surface of the Vulcan's control, eyes hard and uncompromising as she pinned him with a very annoyed look. "Commander, you cannot trust them."

He exchanged a look with the Captain then threw his arms up in the air. Frustration and irritation evident in his voice. "You just can't let it go, can you?"

"Let what go, Commander?"

"A hundred years ago your people screwed up first contact with these people and it just tears ya up to see them make a connection to us."

"I assure you that is not the case."

He turned back to her. "Oh no? Then tell me ya were pleased as punch that they invited us down to their planet when your people couldn't get passed first base?"

She blinked. His meaning understood instinctively though the words confused her. As did so much of what the southerner said. Yet his passion was clear and unequivocal. He thought she was jealous that the Humans had made headway where the Vulcans had not. "I admit I was surprised how quickly the Captain was able to form a connection with the Zenari but that has no bearing on my caution."

"What does, Sub-Commander?" Asked the Captain seriously. He really wanted to understand the reason for T'Pol's reaction even though he was as frustrated as Trip.

"It is something I recall from the original records of first contact."

Lt Reed cleared his throat softly. "Captain? Perhaps we should take this discussion to the situation room?"

The Captain glanced around and realised they were beginning to draw speculative looks and if they were not careful word would spread that something was amiss and no amount of smiling and reassurances would later convince the crew otherwise. He nodded and they did not resume the conversation until the door hissed shut behind them. The Captain turned to T'Pol. "Alright Sub-Commander, suppose you tell us what happened with the Vulcan first contact that makes you so keen on preventing this one."

"That information is classified."

"Oh for cryin' out loud, T'Pol!" Exclaimed Trip. The Captain shot him a warning glare and he had to turn away to prevent another angry outburst. His blood boiling.

"What *can* you tell us?" Said the Captain.

"The Zenari are not what you think they are, Captain. They cannot be trusted."

Lt Reed frowned slightly. "What are they Sub-Commander?"

"That information is classified."

The Captain took a step towards her, his brows lowering like storm clouds. "Sub-Commander, you're going to have to do better than that if you want to convince us to abort this first contact."

When she did not reply immediately, Lt Reed spoke. His quiet calm voice injecting an air of reason into the room. "What happened?"

"We were deceived."

The Commander's eyes narrowed. "Deceived? How?"

"That information is classified."

His lips compressed into a thin angry line. The Captain spoke before his Chief Engineer could paint the walls with obscenities. "Sub-Commander, your reticence is not helping."

"We should leave this area of space as quickly as possible and resume our mission."

Commander Tucker watched her carefully, noticing that she seemed far from happy. A sense of unease began to build up inside his gut tempering his anger. "Sub-Commander, why d'ya let the Cap'n accept the Ambassador's invitation if ya want us to ignore it? Not the most logical thing to do."

"On the contrary, Commander. It was the only way to ensure we could return to Enterprise."

The Captain was really alarmed now. "Are you saying that if we had refused they would have prevented us coming back?"

She said nothing but there was a bleakness in her eyes that chilled them. Trip stepped close to her, now invading her personal space so that he could catch the merest change in her expression. "I think it's time ya told us exactly what happened when your people made first contact, Sub-Commander. An' don't try givin' us that 'information is classified' routine 'cause it isn't gonna work. You people have more secrets than the Magician's Inner Circle. You want us to trust you, to follow your recommendations, but trust is a two way street."

For several minutes no one spoke. The tension in the air was palpable. "I cannot tell you but perhaps I can show you."

Captain Archer looked at her in silence, trying to fathom what was going on behind those shuttered eyes. "Show us?"

She nodded. "I am not permitted to speak of classified information."

"But ya can show us?" Said Trip with a hint of sarcasm.

"I do not intend to show you the information, Commander." She paused and looked back at the Captain. "I will show you what we found."

The information was all there in the Enterprise data banks but no one would have dreamt of aligning it with this new species. Much of what they found would be seen as random anomalies. Distant tragedies that had no connection with each other in either time or space. It was Lt Reed who voiced their doubts.

"Sub-Commander, while these events are disturbing they hardly constitute evidence against the Zenari. In fact, they look like natural events, disasters that no one could foretell. They do not even appear to be linked to each other. Plus I see no correlation between what you are showing us and this species."

"That is what makes them so dangerous."

Trip frowned. "Pardon?"

"In this way they have been able to pass undetected for eons."

The Captain's mouth dropped open. "Eons?"

"Yes, Captain."

"That's an awfully long period of time, Sub-Commander." Drawled the Chief Engineer. "How d'ya come to such a precise reckoning?"

"That..."

"Information is classified." He finished before she could.

Her glare lacked heat. He saw the worry buried just behind it and his own anger evaporated. He wanted to understand but knew she would say little beyond trying to point them in the right direction. But what were the Vulcans afraid of? What were they hiding about he Zenari? Surely a threat that could strike with such impunity and pass undetected through unsuspecting solar systems was worth warning them about? What dirty little secret did the Vulcan High Command have bound up with these people? Was that why the two races had come to armed conflict? Hell. He'd love to get a look at those classified files. Translated into English naturally.

"Captain, our mission is to locate the Xindi. To prevent the destruction of your homeworld. You cannot afford to be distracted by the Zenari."

His eyebrows rose. Interesting choice of words. "Distracted? I thought you said they were dangerous?"

"They are."

"Which is it Sub-Commander?"

Commander Tucker turned his head and gave the Captain a quizzical look. The Sub-Commander looked a little off-balance. Just what the hell was going on?

"We must go and go now, Captain."

Captain Archer shook his head, eyes fastened on hers as he began to walk around her. Trip turned to follow his Captain's movements. "I'm the Captain, Sub-Commander, and I'll make that decision as and when I consider it appropriate."

Lt Reed shifted his balance slightly. "Sir? It wouldn't hurt to draw back from the Zenari homeworld."

The Captain gave him a keen look. "Their homeworld?"

"Yes. I assume this planet--Zeon--is their homeworld."

"Why?"

The Armoury Officer blinked. "Why?"

"Yes. Why assume it's their homeworld? The Sub-Commander claims they have been here eons. Claims they are responsible for disasters many light years apart not to mention centuries apart."

"Perhaps they have more than one homeworld?"

"Then it wouldn't be a homeworld would it, Lieutenant?"

Trip felt uncomfortable. "Cap'n, can't we get back to the subject? I mean, they're expectin' us to go back down and take part in a meal laid on in our honour. If we're gonna leave we ought to leave now, or decide who to take down with us. Either way we need to make a decision."

He almost added *and not get distracted* but that thought was a little too disturbing to say out loud. He was beginnng to sense that T'Pol was right though it flew in the face of what his senses were telling him. The Zenari had been nothing but politeness itself. Open and friendly and everything they could possibly want to find in a first contact situation. Maybe that was it. It was all *too* perfect. Reminded him of that saying--*if something seems to be too good to be true it usually is*. Perhaps he was just not looking at this from the right perspective? Oh hell, if that was true it meant T'Pol was right.

***

On Zeon the Ambassador glided across the polished ashtar stone floor to the Grand Audience Chamber. The black stone glimmered like glass benath his feet, was harder than marble, and reflected deep dark lights up from its' unfathomable depths. The sigh of passing robes kissed the cold stone and blessed them in passing. The Humans had not been brought into the Presence. They were on the periphery of importance. His aide, Kantak, shimmered beside him in a dark green robe, the colour so dark it was yet another shade of black. When he moved subtle golden highlights shivered like water across its' plush surface weight. It was the only time the dour Zenarian sparkled. "Your eminence, we should not have let them leave."

Ambassador Chot was not offended at the quiet admonishment. He knew his aide's thoughts on the subject of submitting to alien encounters. "Our purpose is already served."

"The Vulcan will warn them."

Something slid in the Ambassador's voice like cold humour. "They are a young race."

"Yes, excellency."

"Young races do not listen."

"Yet, your eminence, they listened enough to take a Vulcan with them into this blessed space."

Ambassador Chot was now approaching the dias. A round raised platform of the finest white arraquite crystal polished to mirror brightness and flecked with clear sparkling gems a hundred times harder than diamonds. It was perhaps fifteen feet in diameter and dominated the far side of the Grand Audience Chamber. The ceiling was so high above them that the room almost had its' own atmosphere. The contrast between light and dark was striking. The austerity of the minimal furnishings seemed to underline that this was not a place of relaxation but one of duty. One where solemn vows were exacted and paid in full. It was the Ambassador's favourite place. Where the mantle of greatness flexed and settled its' awesome weight on his shoulders like a lover's caress.

He loved the touch of his Master's hand. Even reaching through the fabric of eternity it thrilled and blessed him. There were no chairs in this vast room. No benches or other furnishings to give a body ease or pause from labour. Zenarians had no need of such distractions. They rested standing up. Slept in brockered seconds between the heavy consciousness of the power that commanded them. The only sustenance they would ever need was in this room. Duty hung like a mute benediction. The Ambassador came to a halt before the empty dias. His black glossy eyes shone with dark joy. For several minutes nothing happened. Silence enveloped them like the still air in a tomb. They waited with a patience that was infinite. Above them the star ship Enterprise hesitated, bound in a decision that was restless in the mind of its' Captain. Slowly a piller of darkness occupied the dias. Ambassador Chot bowed low. His content too intense to put into words.

A voice spoke through the darkness. "The humans have come?"

"Yes, Master."

"You will not harm them."

"No, Master." A pause. "And if they wish to leave?"

A dark rasping sound. "It will do them no good."

"They do not ask for what they seek."

More of the rasping sound. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. No one noticed. "They will but by then it will not be necessary."

"And the Vulcan?"

"A fool guiding a ship of fools."

"We could discredit her."

"Unnecessary." A pause. "It is far more compelling if she does that for herself."

The Ambassador bowed low and remained in that position. A hand emerged from the dark pillar and rested for a moment on his head. The weight crushing him. The power flowing through him and settling like lead in veins that had never carried blood. Ancient bones bent and flexed like muscles. The Presence communed silently with his servant for a brief moment in time. His aide watched with dispassionate care. Mind attuned not only to the Presence but to the visitors above. As the moment passed the piller faded until nothing stood upon the dias not even conscious light.


	2. Defining Forces

Lt Reed was not surprised when Commander Tucker followed him out of the situation room. In silence they made their way to the Armoury. There were many places they could have gone to talk but Malcolm wanted to make sure his weapons were ready and this was one place he was pretty sure the Sub-Commander would not follow them. Besides. He imagined she was far too busy right now trying to persuade the Captain to order Enterprise to leave this area and meet up with the marines. Especially as a compromise had been reached with Admiral Forest. Instead of having to return to Earth they would meet up with an Earth ship carrying the MACOs the Captain had asked for on the edge of the Delphic Expanse. Captain Archer had almost wept blood wringing that concession out of Star Fleet. And now here he was hesitating over what to do. Lt Reed thought it ironic that it would be a Vulcan seeking to ensure that the Captain fulfilled the dictates of Star Fleet. He flicked a glance towards the Commander and made sure no one was standing close enough to overhear them.

"Okay Commander, you have my full attention."

"I don't like this, Malcolm."

"Neither do I but until the Captain makes a decision we have no choice but to wait."

"That's just it. Ya heard what T'Pol said. The Zenari wanna distract us."

"Commander, that is ludicrous. What could they possibly accomplish by doing so? If they are planning anything it stands to reason they would act when we are on their homeworld. The festivities would be my guess. But they aren't acting as if they have anything planned."

"They wouldn't would they?"

"No, you misunderstand me Commander. If they were planning to attack us or take us prisoner why let us come back to the ship? And having done so, why haven't they been back in contact to find out the reason for the delay?"

The Commander scowled. "Maybe that's part of the plan."

"Or maybe there is no plan at all. This could just be simple paranoia."

Commander Tucker gave him a solemn look. No trace of humour in his voice. "There's nothin' simple about paranoia believe me, Malcolm."

Lt Reed looked slightly mystified. "Why are you taking this so personally, Commander? After all, the Sub-Commnader's contention is hardly backed up by evidence. There is no reason to believe that we are in any danger. You were as excited as the Captain about the Zenari. What changed your mind?"

"I'm not sayin' that I've changed my mind, Malcolm. They still fascinate me and I wanna get a closer look at their technology so bad it hurts. I just don't want us rushin' into anythin'. T'Pol said their first attempt at contact with the Zenari ended in a firefight. Given that the Vulcans are not the most war-like species I have to wonder what the hell happened to spark the violence. From what I've seen of our Vulcan friends they're more likely to just go on their way rather than engage in hostilities if they find a race that doesn't like them."

"Maybe the Zenari, for reasons of their own, opened fire first?"

The Commander did not answer for a few seconds. "Now that's a scary thought." He paused. "But what scares me more is what T'Pol won't tell us. What's she holdin' back? If the Zenari are the bad asses of the galaxy I wanna know why and what the hell we're up against, don't you?"

"Of course but idle speculation is counter productive, Commander." He paused feeling suddenly awkward. "There is of course another possibility."

"What's that?"

He chose his words with care. "The Vulcans may have their own reasons for keeping us away from the Zenari."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard!"

The Armoury Officer watched his friend closely. "Is it? If there is a real threat why don't the Vulcans tell us what it is? Give us something at least to convince us to walk away?"

Trip did not want to admit that the same reservations kept going through his own mind. So why was he willing to trust the Vulcans? The answer was simultaneous. T'Pol. That look in the Sub-Commander's eye had flicked a switch inside him. Her look asked him to trust her--blind faith--and he did. But at what cost? Was he prepared to gamble Enterprise, the Captain and all his friends and crew to something that was little more than an instinctive hunch? Were 7 billion dead not enough? Even Malcolm had doubts about the Vulcans' motives and there was no one more even handed and fair minded than the Armoury Officer.

The Chief Engineer said nothing. He mulled over everything that had been said and decided there was only one thing he could do. If he wanted to know what was really going on he would have to ask T'Pol.

***

Ambassador Chot at last straightened. The ebb and flow of energy pulsing like quasars through his body energising him until his hands began to glow. He tucked them in his voluminious sleeves, the heavy crushed robe providing an adequate dampening field to forces held fitfully within the circumference of his temporary self. They wore out so quickly and there was still so far to go. As he turned from the dias he noticed Hyak waiting patiently for him. He glided over to him. Hyak bowed, paused a moment, then half straightened.

"What of the Humans?"

The chief binary biomechanical engineer tilted his head in the negative. A movement that would have gone unremarked among Humans it conveyed a wealth of meaning. The Zenari were nothing if not subtle.

"No word from their Captain?"

Hyak deepened the incline of his head. "They are still in stationary orbit."

"Ah--thinking. And the Vulcan?"

"She has not contacted her High Command."

Something that could have been a flicker of surprise moved just beneath the Ambassador's pale skin. That was unexpected. She could prove problematic. It was unfortunate when the pieces on the board did not move as anticipated. He would need to give this some thought. Hyak said nothing to disturb him. Time was a mesh through which eternity sifted and spun on a hidden axis. In memory the Ambassador savoured the touch of the alien minds. Soft. Unsuspecting. Malleable. His eyes opened as a servitor appeared. The Ambassador gave him permission to speak.

"Their Captain has sent a transmission."

"Where?"

"To his Star Fleet."

The level of interest in the room sharpened. Silence enveloped them like a shroud. The Ambassador embraced the silence and waited.

***

Captain Jonathan Archer tried not to squirm at the look on Admiral Forest's face. He was in his ready room and this was the first contact he had made with the Admiral since returning from Zeon. The Admiral heard him out in silence. Now his keen eyes seemed to bore right through the Captain's head to the seat of his uneasiness. "You still do not trust the Vulcans?"

The Captain bit back a retort, tried to block out the memory of how the Vulcans had held back the space programme, actively preventing his father from realising his dream in his own lifetime. Henry Archer had invented the warp engine but not lived to see it take the first manned star ship where no man had gone before. Here in space they were perfecting it with every light year they travelled. Gifted people like Commander Tucker who lived, ate and breathed warp theory and had the thrum of the engines regulating their heart beats. He knew it made no sense to hang on to the resentment. To keep an ember of anger still burning deep inside. He thought he had left that all behind with the advent of Sub-Commander T'Pol. It helped that she was female and not only very smart but also able to temper her interactions with them to a point where there was as little friction as possible. Who would have thought when they started this mission that he would come to hold a Vulcan so highly in his esteem? And yet. Still he did not trust them. Not deep down. Not at heart. Not where it mattered. That it was so obvious to Admiral Forest was an admonishment in itself.

"Let's just say I'm keeping my options open, sir."

"From what you've told me, Jon, this new species appears to be open to at least an exchange of ideas. I have heard nothing to suggest that we cannot make some ground here. Perhaps the Sub-Commander's reaction is tempered by the Vulcans' less than successful first contact?"

"That was my thought, sir."

"You say they have an infinitely renewable energy source?"

The Captain allowed a smile to lift the frown. Remembering the look of stunned awe on Trip's face lightened his heart. At times like these he could swear his Chief Engineer was a five year old in a man's body. Hell. He often got that impression whenever the affable southerner opened his mouth. He hid a smirk. The Admiral was waiting for his response. "So they say, sir."

"How do they do that?"

He shook his head. "I haven't a clue. They were going to show us when the Sub-Commander urged us to return to Enterprise. Discretion being the better part of valor I thought it wise to regroup back here and discover the reason for her insistence."

"What did you find out?"

The frown reappeared. "Precious little. Whatever the Sub-Commander knows about this species she isn't sharing with us, sir. Those damn tight-lipped Vulcans!" He tried to bite back his frustration. "She tells us they are dangerous but not how. When pressed all she'll tell me is that the Zenari lied to the Vulcans and that their first contact ended in an exchange of fire."

Admiral Forest's eyebrows rose thoughtfully. "Did it now?" He mused.

"They have had no contact with each other since. That was over a hundred years ago." When the Admiral said nothing the Captain's eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you thinking, sir?"

"I'm thinking that if the Sub-Commander won't tell you why we should have nothing to do with the Zenari, you should see what you can find out through diplomatic means."

"Are you giving me permission to try again?"

The Admiral nodded. "Yes, Jon, I am. We've been hanging on to the Vulcans' coat tails for long enough. Perhaps the Zenari can help us. You say they live here in the Expanse?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. If you can gain their trust see what you can find out about the Xindi. But Jon?"

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Be careful. While I admit I would enjoy the opportunity to wipe the smug smile off the Vulcans' faces and steal a march on them I don't want to alienate them if they are right. There is a limit to how much crow pie I'm prepared to eat no matter how hungry I am."

The Captain laughed and nodded. "Understood, sir!"

Minutes later the Captain was joined by Sub-Commander T'Pol, Commander Tucker, and Lt Reed. He waited for the door to hiss shut and looked at their expectant faces. "I have just been talking to Admiral Forest."

He could feel the alertness of his command staff sharpen. Interestingly, Trip noticed T'Pol's eyes narrow slightly. It was subtle but he had learnt to pick up the nuances that would be his only clue to what she was thinking.

"After considering the Sub-Commander's recommendation he feels it is a unique opportunity for us to explore this species in the hope that they can help us..."

Sub-Commander T'Pol's expression tightened. There was a brief flash of something in her eyes. Anger. Annoyance that her opinion had been so quickly pushed aside despite the fact that the Vulcans had met this species before. A brief stunned look gave way to disappointment then the bland blank mask was back in place. Trip felt uncomfortable even as his pulse quickened with excitement and anticipation. He could hardly wait to get back down to Zeon. The Captain was talking, outlining the way they would go about this and the proposed make up of the away team. He would contact Ambassador Chot and inform him that if the invitation still stood they would be only to happy to return to the planet but that it was too late to come this evening. He would suggest they return in the morning. An added advantage being that they would be able to stay longer. Trip grinned happily at Malcolm. The Captain nodded to them then met the cool, unimpressed gaze of his Vulcan First Officer and had the sudden sharp feeling that she considered him a fool.

***

Ensign Hoshi Sato sat hunched over her pasta. Travis was concentrating very hard on his meat and potato pie, trying to ignore the heated stir of air that brushed his cheek as she leaned forward. "Come on Travis you can tell me!"

He would not meet her eye. "I can't. It was an accident."

"Okay," Said Hoshi coyly. "Then *acidentally* tell me."

Surprised, he looked up and that was his mistake. Now she had him trapped in her gaze and he could feel his resolve weakening. Oh hell. If the Commander and Sub-Commander ever found out he had spied on them he was dead meat. "It was private, Hoshi." He said in a last attempt to fend off her curiosity.

"I won't tell..." She wheedled. Her hot breath now fanning his face. "Travis?"

He gulped quickly and ducked his head, a sure sign he was going to cave in. Hiding a smirk Hoshi moved closer until their heads touched. Her highly trained ears picking up the boomer's hushed words and commiting them to memory like a spy stealing secrets.

"What are you two up to?"

The unexpected clipped voice made them jump apart, matching guilty expressions flushed on their faces as they looked up into Lt Reed's face. Suspicious and mildly amused he tilted his head slightly and waited. Hoshi wet her lips. Travis would not look at either of them. "What makes you think we're up to anything, Lieutenant?"

"Oh I don't know," He said, placing his tray on their table. "The guilty looks, the conspirational huddle, the flushed faces... Need I go on?"

Her face fell. Travis hung his head and stared at a spot on the deck between his shoes.

"So," Said Malcolm, neatly taking his food and drink off the tray and setting the tray aside on the nearest empty table. He drew out a chair and sat equidistant from them, a tactic that gave him an clear view of both parties. "Who's going to tell me?"

"We weren't doing anything wrong." Mumbled Travis.

"I never said you were but I'm not Chief of Security for nothing."

When neither of them spoke the Lieutenant raised an eyebrow. For some reason he could not fathom Hoshi flushed and got quickly to her feet. "I um have to go..."

"You haven't touched your pasta."

Travis got up quickly as well. "Me too, I should get back to the bridge."

That did it. Something was definitely going on and he was going to find out what it was. Standing up, Lt Reed put some steel into his voice. "You will both sit back down. No one is going anywhere until you tell me what this is about. And if that means I keep you here until you are late for your next shift so be it. I can explain my actions. Can you explain yours?"

Hoshi and Travis exchanged quick panicked glances then Hoshi let out a huge breath and nodded. Travis did not say anything but followed her lead and sank back down into his chair. She cleared her throat slowly. "It isn't Travis's fault it's mine. I made him tell."

"Tell what?"

She looked at Travis and gave him a nod, urging him to repeat what he had told her. "I um I overheard the Commander and Sub-Commander talking."

Lt Reed frowned for a minute then realised what he meant. "Are you telling me you were eavesdropping on a private conversation?"

Travis nodded and looked down at his hands.

"Yes, sir." He glanced up at the Armoury Officer. "It wasn't on purpose sir but the conversation..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"The conversation what? Petered out to a standstill? Like this one?"

"No, no sir. It was just *unusual*."

That definitely was not the reply he had been expecting. "Define unusual."

Travis wanted to groan. Oh God it was almost like being cross examined by T'Pol. "Uh, unusual as in friendly."

"That is because the Commander and Sub-Commander are friends, Ensign. Why that should be the subject of a whisper campaign or a source of entertainment..."

"No, sir, it was *private*."

Lt Reed blinked, sure he must have misheard him. "Private as in inappropriate?" He asked slowly.

"Um, not exactly sir."

The Lieutenant was within a hair's breadth of hitting him. "Travis, I have precisely fifteen minutes left of my refreshment break. If you do not tell me now I will have to go back on duty without having eaten. Do you have any idea how detrimental that would be to my current mood?"

"No, sir. Sorry sir. It's just I was taken by surprise and then I couldn't move without giving away the fact that I was there so I..."

"You stayed?"

Travis looked down at his hands again. His ears had definitely lightened in shade, a sure sign of his embarrassment.

"What happened?"

"They um they talked for a while then they um kissed, sir."

"What? You must be mistaken..."

He lifted his head. "No sir, I was only feet from them." He said quietly wishing he were not so sure.

*And they didn't see you?* Thought Malcolm. Bloody hell, if those two were to get intimate there would be hell to pay. Captain Archer had made it quite clear that there would be no fraternisation between ranks. Sub-Commander T'Pol might not be in the human chain of command but to Lt Reed's thinking that just made it worse. She was a Vulcan. He did not even want to imagine what would happen if Star Fleet and the Vulcan High Command became privy to this information. His mouth had suddenly gone dry. "They kissed?"

Travis nodded.

"Well, if it was just a kiss that needn't mean..."

Travis shook his head, feeling more and more miserable. "No, it wasn't just a kiss, sir."

Lt Reed stared at him, trying to remind himself that Travis had seen them in a public place. How bad could it be for God's sake? "Travis, I do not want to grow old and gray standing here waiting for you to spit it out. Just tell me what you saw and heard from start to finish. Put us all out of our agony."

"Is there somewhere we can go, sir?"

He almost refused then realised if it was half as bad as Travis was implying a little discretion might be best. Giving him a curt nod he led them briskly out of the mess hall and down the corridor not stopping until they came to his own private quarters. Hoshi looked a bit surprised but Travis seemed oblivious. Only when they were safely inside and the door had hissed shut did Travis relax a little.

"Okay, Travis." Said Malcolm in a careful even tone, his eyes locked on the Ensign's. "Now tell me. And this time don't leave anything out."

***

Trip knew she was upset. Felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought that he had in some way contributed to her distress. Oh, she hid it well. From everyone except him. They were walking down the corridor to the elevator. It was tearing him up inside to see her like this. Outwardly calm, unpeturbed. Inwardly twisting up inside and cracking. How did he know that? Since when was he an expert on Vulcan emotions? Not Vulcan emotions, he corrected himself. *T'Pol*. He almost stopped in his tracks at the realisation. Feelings deepening in him that had remained studiously dormant. Locked away where they could not betray him. He felt suddenly protective. Worried for her. Anxious not to add to any discomfort she might be feeling. He reached out and touched her arm lightly. She recoiled as if his fingers burned then stopped and turned to face him, a solemn brow arching slowly in query. Her lips still. Funny but looking into her eyes right there and then he felt whole conversations pass between them. The world and his wife could come to tea and he would not have noticed.

"T'Pol, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for, Commander."

His look hardened slightly. Unwilling to let himself off the hook so easily. "Oh, yes I do." He paused, his hand reaching out almost of its' own volition, the fingers turning to brush their backs against the smooth plane of her cheek. Her eyelids closed a beat, in slow motion. All sound and awareness narrowed around him to the compass of her being. His blood roared and pounded like the beat of a neap tide in his ears. "I should have listened to you." He whispered.

She angled her face, her eyes devouring his. Drawing them into those deep liquid pools. He felt hot, the air thinning. Dizzy, he could not step away from her. Thinking became something other people did. He lacked the freedom of independent thought to deny her. She knew only that her destiny rested in his. The ship ceased to form around them. Leaning in towards him, he met her halfway. Soft lips brushed against each other as if they were made for only this. It was not a deep kiss, not even a lust laden one, but it was sensuous and serious. Like a promise being set in stone. An intimate gesture neither would have taken back even if they could. Dazed, they stared at each other. Trip gently stroking her face while T'Pol focused on him to the exclusion of all else.

"What happened in your first contact, T'Pol?"

The Sub-Commander did not blink. The pause was barely a fraction of a second. "They lied to us. I told you that."

"Yes," He whispered so softly that she had to resist the urge to shudder with want and need. What was wrong with her? "What did they lie about T'Pol?"

"That information is classified." She said slowly, her voice almost as soft as his own.

Their words saying one thing, their bodies having a whole other conversation. He moved in closer, his body sliding into perfect contact with her smaller one. Hips slotting in to the waiting curves, her hands parting to slide around him, one hand snaking up around the back of his neck to stroke the nape while her eyes widened slightly and regarded him with solemn smouldering intent. A heart aching sigh drifted passed lips drunk on her proximity. He wanted to apologise to her for kissing her in the corridor, for having the affrontery to reach out and touch her even though he knew Vulcans did not like to be touched. But a growing part of him was glad. Revelled in the break with Star Fleet policy. The relaxation of the rigid Vulcan straight jacket that kept T'Pol from him. Vaguely he remembered his question. "What was the lie, T'Pol?"

She blinked lazily up into his eyes as if intoxicated. Maybe she was. Maybe they both were. Then she smiled softly and kissed him. Not the chaste brush of lips he had offered her but the slow insistent caress of lush lips encouraging his to respond in kind, her tongue sliding inside his warm human cavern as his lips parted in welcome. Savouring the lips that had teased her so many times across a crowded room. She had not known it then. Would have denied the attraction had anyone suggested as much. But now. Here. Their barriers were mere footnotes in formerly exemplary careers. He pulled back just enough to groan into her mouth. "What lie?"

A half smile curved her lush lips, her eyes gazing triumphantly into his own. "This one." She breathed. Then her lips crushed down on his and he knew he was lost. T'Pol did everything but spontaneously combust.


	3. Burden Of Truth

Captain Archer stared at Lt Reed in shock. It was late and everybody had been dismissed to get some sleep before their early start the next day. The trip down to Zeon promised to be a full one. He had not expected the Lieutenant to turn up at the door to his private quarters. Surprised he frowned. "It's late, Lieutenant. Can't this wait until morning?"

"No sir, I don't believe it can."

The Captain raised his eyebrows but his Armoury Officer did not elaborate. Sighing in resignation the Captain stepped aside to allow him to enter.

"Now what's so urgent it couldn't wait until morning?"

The Lieutenant took a moment to steel himself before speaking. The Captain was in his night wear and obviously about to get into bed. Lt Reed looked unsettled, uncomfortable and unhappy. The combination sharpened Captain Archer's wits quicker than being doused in cold water. "With respect I do not think Sub-Commander T'Pol should accompany us down to the planet surface tomorrow, sir."

To say he was surprised was putting it mildly. The Captain had never known Lt Reed have a problem with T'Pol before. "And your reason, Lieutenant?"

"Apart from the fact that all the command staff would be away from Enterprise at the same time, I would rather not say at this point in time, Captain."

"Lt Reed, the Sub-Commander is a valued member of this crew irrespective of the fact that she is also a Vulcan. You're going to have to do better than simply ask me to exclude her."

"It's... it's a private matter sir."

"Private?"

"Yes, sir."

Lt Reed was doing everything but openly squirming now. His gaze fixed on a point on the wall behind the Captain's left shoulder. Studiously avoiding eye contact and standing ramrod straight as if he were on inspection parade or about to be sentenced at his own court martial. "Lieutenant, when I ask a member of my crew a question I expect a straight answer. That goes doubly so for any of my command staff. If you have a problem with the Sub-Commander then you're going to have to spell it out for me."

"Sir, I don't have a problem with the Sub-Commander. Or at least I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"No, sir."

"But now you do?"

His silence spoke volumes.

The Captain was fast running out of patience. "Lieutenant, I am ordering you to explain yourself. It is the end of a long and trying day and we both need our rest. Tomorrow we will be spending most of the day on the surface of an alien planet with a species we have never had dealings with before. Whatever reservations you may have I need to know what they are."

The Lieutenant turned his head slightly and looked the Captain in the eye. He seemed very solemn and more than a little miserable. "The information came third hand Captain." He hedged as if to distance himself from a poison sword. A faint hope lingering that the Captain would not press him for details of something that amounted to little more than hearsay. His hope was quickly dashed.

"What information?"

"About the Sub-Commander..."

"And? Spit it out Lieutenant."

"It concerns the Sub-Commander and the Commander."

The Captain's frown deepened. What did this have to do with Trip? "What are you talking about?"

"The Sub-Commander and Commander were observed indulging in inappropriate behaviour but it was what the Sub-Commander was saying that was most alarming."

The Captain was thoroughly intrigued now. "What did she say?"

"She told the Commander the reason she opposed us having any contact with the Zenari." He paused, feeling terrible about repeating what Travis had told him but seeing no other option. He could hardly refuse to disclose the information to the Captain when asked point blank to do so. He hated the way it made him feel like he was also betraying his best friend. "It had to do with the relationship between Humans and Vulcans. A relationship built around a lie."

"Lie?"

Captain Archer sat down. Listening wide eyed as his Armoury Officer filled him in on the details he was glad he had done so. As intrigued and curious as he had been to discover the source of the Lieutenant's unease now that he knew he fervently wished that he didn't.

***

The whispered sigh of a heavy soft material as like to crushed velvet as it was not drew hushed muted tones from the polished astar stone, like ghosts sighing as the living passed. Not in grieving but in memory and solemn greeting. Whenever the soft padded feet paused the sighing shone in a muted song of welcome. A cool voice of benediction. Ambassador Chot waited while his major domo approached then bowed low with respect. So many meanings transmitted in that one simple act. An affirmation of fealty and acknowledgement of his own place in the subtle hierachy of the Zenari regime. Kantak was silent. His patience infinite. His Lord a faint but vibrant shadow of muted light, a column rising and fading above them into the over arching ceiling of crystal. As more of the Ambassador's essence poured down to reanimate him the column became even fainter until it was gone. Several long healing minutes passed before a sigh of gathered breath took residence once more in the physical form that carried him. The Ambassador's robe shifted slightly and ribbons of light refracted from the dark shiny surface absorbing his energy. Kantak sensed the Ambassador was pleased.

"The Humans will be here within one of their hours. Dissention has already begun."

Kantak inclined his head. "How much may they observe, excellency?"

Ambassador Chot looked at him but there was a distance to his inky orbs. A swirling depth that swallowed all light yet did not claim it for his own. "Whatever their hearts desire."

If his aide was surprised at the response he did not show it.

"The Vulcan will not be accompanying them."

"A wise decision from the Humans."

The Ambassador seemed amused but made no comment. His interecession had been subtle. In the unclothed mists of his mind he savoured the Vulcan's hidden passion. The Human response to her intoxicating. Interesting. Useful. A bait for a thousand hooks needed but one larvae. His multifaceted mind smiled in a blend of colours splintered from a prism. Light had no pure reflection. Darkness was a cloak that lulled the unwary with fears born of misunderstood imaginings. That he could bring them to fruition was a small thing. The flavours engendered were better in tinctures than in full drams. Subtle wiles went unnoticed and did the deeper damage. They also healed breaches that were formed in sleep and nutured as the soul began to wake forming new patterns of consciousness. Yes. This culture could be formed. Moulded. Used. Adapted.

Soon they would test the boundaries. Explore these new creations. Weild what it was the Xindi most feared and the Humans most desired. The Vulcan had been right to fear them but not for the reasons she imagined. Ambassador Chot reached out in the silent vacuum of space and tentatively touched the Human minds as they focused on their trip down to the planet surface. The Captain's mind was predictably preset, the configuration dictated by his need to obtain information, his desire to accumulate powerful allies, and his ignorance of the cost. The man had great loyalty and strength of character but was niave in the ways of the universe. He lapped over the thoughts being steadfastly organised in the man's mind. Reviewed the make up of their Away Team. Felt a stir of interest at the many-tongued one who would join them and was amused by the adversarial one who worried and fussed over every detail of the mission.

The bright one drew his attention once more as he had done in their first contact. His excitement and enthusiasm so diametrically opposed to the reactions of the others that it was something of a novelty. A refreshing change. Attitude open, mind questing, curiosity seeking. Full of depths that bespoke a pioneering spirit and a quick mind. Surprise littered his thoughts at the inclusion of a non-human doctor. Ambassador Chot paused and widened his senses. They knew little of Denobulans and he was wary. How did one of them come to be on a Human star ship? They would have to be more careful around this one. His was an old race, a venerable one. He had a vibrant quixotic mentality and a startling clarity of vision that would need careful monitoring. Interesting. For the first time in decades the Ambassador felt a thrum of excitement. A faint dark glow of anticipation as the wheels of the future tense began to form in the folds of the present. Malleable. A new material to play with. New secrets to extract and refine. Little did they know what this sacred space was. But they would learn. Oh yes. Once he had evaluated their gifts they would learn.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol was not pleased. She glared at the Captain but he did not budge. They stood in the situation room. Lt Reed fidgetted uneasily from one foot to the other feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Commander Tucker's expression was one of dumbfounded astonishment which was slowly turning to anger. He stared at his friend. "You think we did WHAT?"

Lt Reed inwardly flinched. The echo of it on his face like a reaction from a physical blow. Captain Archer was quick to speak up. "Don't blame Lt Reed he was simply doing his duty."

Now Trip turned to the Captain. "His duty?" The words were a sneer of utter distaste. "Duty to go spying on his fellow officers? Is that what ya call it?"

"I did not spy on anyone, Commander..." Began the Lieutenant.

"No," Snapped Trip, trying to hide how much it hurt. "Ya used Travis and Hoshi to do your dirty work for ya. I never would have thought ya could stoop so low."

The Lieutenant flushed and could feel his own ire rising in response but the Sub-Commander spoke first. She actually sounded somewhat puzzled, her anger seemingly reserved for the Captain.

"Why would the Ensign ascribe actions to myself and the Commander that are blatantly untrue?"

The Captain's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying Travis is lying?"

Commander Tucker could feel his breath getting a little laboured. He tried to calm down so he could speak without letting his anger over rule his common sense. Not that the dividing line was that thick at this minute. "No one's sayin' anythin' Cap'n but I think ya should get Travis an' Hoshi in here so we can clear this mess up in one go. I don't know what he thought he saw or heard but I'm tellin' ya he's wrong."

"Are you saying you did not kiss the Sub-Commander?"

Trip could not mask the hurt in his eyes or his voice. "How many times I gotta tell ya, Cap'n? No, I did not."

The Captain looked at T'Pol, her stony expression coupled with Trip's vehement denial making him suddenly uncertain. He was beginning to feel more than a little angry with Lt Reed for putting him in this position. "Sub-Commander?"

"I concur with the Commander. I suggest Ensign Mayweather tell us what it was he thinks he saw and heard. Speculation is no substitute for direct observation."

"And if he still insists he saw and heard what he says he did?" The Captain could not resist asking.

Trip's lips set in a grim line. "Then ya'll have to decide who you're gonna believe Cap'n."

The Captain did not want this but he had no choice. Activating the com he asked for Ensigns Mayweather and Sato to join them in the situation room. While they waited the tension all but sucked the air out of the room. When the door hissed open every eye turned to watch a very uneasy pair of Ensigns enter. The Captain took a deep breath and locked eyes with Ensign Mayweather. "Travis, I want you to tell us *exactly* what you saw and heard."

The man looked upset and nervous. This was the last thing he wanted. When Lt Reed had forced him to speak up the only thing that had reassured him was the thought that it would not come to this. While he could understand the Lieutenant feeling duty bound to bring the matter to the Captain's attention the whole thing seemed to have taken on a life of its' own. Travis wished the ground would open up beneath his feet but knew it would not. Face flushed he told them what he had told Hoshi, trying not to look at Commander Tucker when he heard the Chief Engineer's gasp of disbelief. Sub-Commander T'Pol made no sound at all, her impassive face showing no emotion whatsoever but the fury in her eyes burning holes in him. As soon as the boomer finished speaking Trip spoke.

"I never touched the Sub-Commander Travis, let alone kissed her! And this was supposed to have happened in the corridor next to the elevator? If we were gonna get intimate don't ya think we'd have gone somewhere a little more private? Geez, what were ya thinkin'?"

Although he was flushed with embarrassment Travis met the Commander's eyes without flinching. "I'm only saying what I saw, Commander."

"Then ya need to see Phlox and get your eyes tested!"

"Commander!" Captain Archer's voice warned. He looked at Travis. "What did you hear, Ensign?"

Now he looked a bit confused. "It didn't really make much sense to me at the time Captain but the Commander was asking the Sub-Commander about lies. He kept asking her 'what lies' then when they kissed she said 'this one'."

Commander Tucker was ready to pound his fist into the wall. The whole thing was plain ludicrous but the Captain was hanging on every word. Hell. Even Malcolm looked torn between who to believe. Shit. If he had not been *with* T'Pol he would have been tempted to believe Travis too. He was basically an honest man. In fact, Commander Tucker could not ever remember the boomer lying so that made this situation even more bizarre. It was the Captain's voice which roused him from his dark reverie.

"Sub-Commander, you are very quiet. What do you have to say?"

For a moment silence descended. T'Pol raised an eyebrow. Ensign Sato marvelled at her control. "The Commander is correct, we had no physical contact. We neither touched nor kissed. Nor did we discuss lies. Our only point of discussion was about going down to the planet surface. The Commander was excited and eager to go, I thought it was a mistake."

"So none of this happened?"

"That is correct Captain though Ensign Mayweather was not lying."

The moment the words left her mouth the ground fell away beneath Trip's feet. Had T'Pol just said what he thought she had said? There was a stunned silence. Captain Archer spoke with difficulty. "What did you say?"

"I said that Ensign Mayweather was not lying."

"You also said that incident with Trip never happened."

"That is correct, Captain."

Captain Archer shook his head as if the contents inside were lose. "Sub-Commander, both cannot be correct. Either your recollections and the Commander's are wrong or Ensign Mayweather is wrong."

"Not so, Captain."

He could definitely feel a headache coming on. The Captain indicated for everybody to take a seat. He had a feeling this was going to take some time. Once they were seated he indicated for T'Pol to continue.

"I warned you that the Zenari could not be trusted."

"An' ya said they were dangerous." Added the Commander.

T'Pol continued smoothly as if he had not spoken. "When Vulcans first made contact with the Zenari a century ago it ended in bloodshed. The Zenari lied to us. A lie so divisive and potent that decades later we were still fighting a war over it."

"What lie was that?" Asked the Captain.

The Sub-Commander's bland expression did not change. "That information is classified." She paused. "The incident between myself and Commander Tucker never happened but the Esign did see us in the corridor."

Lt Reed frowned. "How do you know that? Did you see him?"

She shook her head. "No, but the Zenari manipulate. They do not create a lie out of nothing."

Commander Tucker waved his arms in the air, a look of total confusion on his face. "Hold on a minute, what does that mean?"

T'Pol took a moment to look around the room, making eye contact with each and every one of them. Her gaze settled at last on the Captain. "Many species terraform planets. Create environments in which their species can survive and even thrive. The Zenari do not do this." She paused to make sure she had their full attention. "They terraform minds."

Stunned, no one spoke for a full minute. The Captain cleared his throat slowly. "Are you saying they somehow tampered with Ensign Mayweather's mind?"

"Yes. They manipulated what he saw and heard to create a lie. A lie he had to believe was true in order to create division among us."

No one knew quite what to say. It was Lt Reed who thought about the piece of information that the others had not yet picked up on. Sub-Commander T'Pol had said that the Zenari could not create a lie out of nothing. So. Did that mean there *was* something between her and the Commander? And if there was. Was it something they should worry about?

***

The distant field rippled. Space warped comfortably around the spherical ship. Power sequestered from numerous suns in a thousand systems propelled it through repulsion and attraction. Similar to the vortex theory of planetary motions but much more complex and refined. Sometimes using lightwaves, sometimes gravity. It had no propulsion system and no warp core. Smaller spheres absorbed themselves into the metallic skin and emerged again moments later like ball bearings moving through gas implying it was not solid. The size of the sphere was hard to fathom until it passed close to a planet or moon. Huge it could easily pass for a small planet, the odd metallic surface able to polarise like a giant mirror or alter to create a gaseous plane making it all but invisible in the reaches of space. The shape adopted appeared to be one of convenience not necessity. Only one thing was certain as it made its' inexorable way through the vast ocean of stars. Uerringly heading for the vast tract of unstable space known as the Delphic Expanse. The sphere was going home.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol could hardly believe her ears. Captain Archer however, appeared to be completely serious.

"Captain, it would be folly to go down to Zeon now that you know the true nature of these beings."

"I have already spoken with Admiral Forest and it is his wish that we continue to explore the possiblity that the Zenari may be able to help us."

Lt Reed did not feel happy or comfortable. He did not want to contradict his Captain but neither could he discount the Vulcan's warning. "Sub-Commander, you said they were dangerous?"

Her eyes regained focus. "Yes, Lieutenant."

"In what way? If they pose a threat we should at least be prepared."

"You cannot prepare for the Zenari, Lieutenant, it would be a waste of time and resources to try."

Trip could not believe what he was hearing. "What?" He looked from T'Pol to the Captain. "Cap'n if that's true we can't go down there! Who knows what the hell they may have cooked up for us next."

"We'll be careful, Commander. Besides we'll have Lt Reed and a security detail with us. What could go wrong?"

"But Cap'n," He tried one last time. "If they can manipulate our minds.."

The Captain pressed his lips together and said the one thing he had been hoping not to say out loud. "What makes you think we would be any safer on Enterprise? The Zenari have shown how easily they can affect our perceptions even at a distance. At least by going ahead with this visit we may be able to glean some information that will help us. They haven't shown any inclination towards hostility. Let's try to keep it that way."

Ensign Mayweather looked decidedly unhappy but kept his mouth shut. Hoshi was not so sure that she wanted to go down with the Away Team after all though the linguist in her was itching to glean more information about the Zenari for the universal translator. What she had so far was incomplete but allowed a rudimentary form of communication to pass between them. There had however been indications that the Zenari had more than one language. Before they were dismissed the Captain had one last thing to say.

"In view of your information about the Zenari, Sub-Commander, I want you to remain on Enterprise while we go down to the surface."

"Captain, that would not be wise."

"Your concern is noted, Sub-Commander."

She tried another tack. "You do not know what you are walking into, Captain. It could be a trap."

He paused. "Any last advice?"

She wanted to say *don't go* but one look at the determination on his face told her it would be a waste of breath. Frustrated but resigned to the inevitability of it, she shook her head, but as they all began to file out of the room her eyes unerringly locked on to Commander Tucker's. He could sense her unspoken concern. Tried to reassure her with a look but nothing could still the growing sensation that they were making a big mistake. In T'Pol's mind she was already calling the decision Archer's Folly.


	4. The Velvet Glove

The crystalline chamber was at once marvellous, awesome and serene. Dr Phlox was mesmerised, his attention scanning every square inch of the fabulous creation. Ambassador Chot was politely talking to Captain Archer but his attention was very much on the Denobulan, a fact that only Lt Reed seemed to notice with a small almost insignificant part of his back brain. His own attention effectively diverted by Ran Tok, the Zenari Master at Arms. He thought it an oddly Human title for such an alien species to adopt and flicked a glance towards Ensign Hoshi Sato as if to query it but the linguist was deep in conversation with her counterpart. Her face was animated and eager, her eyes shining with enthusiasm as she conversed more and more articulately with their Counsellor. It was the first female of the species any of them had seen and to all outward appearances she seemed no different from the males. Only in her subtle movements, the way she always deferred gently to her male colleagues, her lighter but more agile voice, and some indefinable something in her eyes was her gender hinted at then confirmed when Hoshi simply asked her outright.

"Forgive me if I seem blunt, Counsellor Rok, but are you female? Among Humans I am female, every other member of our landing party is male."

Something that could have been amusement skated over the oddly coloured orbs of her eyes. Sometimes they seemed a marl grey, sometimes greeny-blue, at other times almost black. "Yes. You would call me such."

Hoshi ran that through her auditory senses one more time but it came out the same. Was that a yes or a no? Perhaps it was no more than the equivalent of an idiomatic speech pattern rather than an attempt to be vague. She shrugged it off and continued firing eager questions at her compliant host. Metaphorically making hay while the sun shone. Who knew when or if they would ever get this opportunity again? Hoshi did not intend to waste a second. "Would I be right in surmissing that your language has more than one tongue?"

Counsellor Rok inclined her head slowly, the grey of her eyes swirling slowly into a deep black mist. "You have sharp ears."

The Ensign laughed. "Sub-Commander T'Pol would call them 'efficient'."

A second passed in unfilled silence before the Counsellor spoke again. "How many dialects do you think we have?"

Hoshi immediately launched into her favourite subject with gusto. Dr Phlox was not really listening to them, his attention flitting like a butterfly from group to group while the rest of his senses expanded to take in everything he could see, touch, smell, feel and intuit. This place was very light, almost oppressively so. Above their heads towered a many tiered ceiling of crystal, the effect being of layers of ice when viewed from an ocean bed. It was oddly hypnotic and a little frightening even though the lowest section of the multilayered ceiling was over forty feet above their heads. He could almost feel the weight pressing down on him like the lid on some huge ornate coffin. He was fascinated by the effect, the skill of the workmanship if it could be called that and curious about what it was for. Although he had never met the Zenari and knew little about them instinct told him this was a functional place. Not a frivolous expense used to impress strangers. Therefore they had been brought here for a reason. It sharpened his attentiveness to realise that he was the only one who appeared to be thinking along these lines. Yet it was so tempting to allow himself to be swept him along on a tide of utter amazement and pleasure.

Commander Tucker had listened for a short while to the Captain talking to Ambassador Chot but to put it mildly he was rapidly getting bored out of his skull. If he wanted to yammer away with them he could have done it over the com and had the comfort of staying on Enterprise. Fortunately Kentak rescued him from saying something inappropriate that would certainly have earned him the Captain's disfavour and perhaps got them all thrown off Zeon.

"Commander, I believe you were promised a more in depth tour of our engineering facilities?"

A smile broke out on his face, the whole universe suddenly changing on a dime before his eyes into a box of delights. "Now you're talkin', but where's the other guy?"

"Hyak is balancing the field."

"He's what?"

The aide bowed slightly. "If you will permit me I can take you to him?"

Beaming back at him he Commander fell into step beside the aide. "Thought you'd never ask."

By the time the Captain finished talking about his mission to the Ambassador, Trip was no longer in the crystal chamber with them. Hoshi was walking towards a carved doorway on one side of the huge polished room with the Counsellor. Lt Reed was staring hard at something the Master of Arms was showing him on an intricately carved wall. It was as if the relief had been carved in ice, the layers giving it the feel of something you could just walk through like a moving landscape. It was playing havoc with his depth perception like an exotic kind of Escher print come to life. When he blinked the vertical planes were flat again. Obviously it was an optical illusion. The Lieutenant leaned closer and stared intently. As if to see how it was done. But like the dead it would not give up its' secrets. Interesting.

When he turned to ask the Master at Arms another question he almost fancied the alien was smiling at him. A pretty impossible feat for a species with no mouth. He was about to say what was on his mind when he caught a fleeting sparkle of something sharp and bright glittering deep in the Zenarian's eyes then blinked in mild confusion. Suddenly the carving was no longer a vertical representation. No more a mere optical illusion. No stunningly beautiful relief to draw the heart as well as the eye. In a fraction of a heartbeat the carving had become three dimensional with himself trapped like an insect in amber right at the very heart of it.

***

Ensign Travis Mayweather tried not to stare but the sight was so unprecedented he could not stop himself. Sub-Commander T'Pol was pacing the command deck of the bridge. No. Really. She was. Pacing. Her back ramrod straight, arms braced behind her back, hands clasped until the knuckles were white. Every now and then she would stop, stare off at nothing, then start again. All without uttering a word. He had never seen the Sub-Commander this worried about anything. Not when the Suliban attacked. Not when she had been tortured. Not when the Commander and the Captain had been covered in that alien goo. So many dangers faced, life and death situations overcome by skill, ingenuity and friendship. What was it about the Zenari that terrified her so much? And why would she not tell the Captain what it was? It seemed incongruous to him that having decided to throw in her lot with the crew of Enterprise in direct defiance of the orders of the Vulcan High Command and Science Directorate that she should keep back something as fundamental to their safety as this.

The Sub-Commander could not rationalise her state of near panic. Her frustration with Captain Archer rising to new heights. Concern for Ensign Sato. Relief that at least Lt Reed was with them with a couple of his armoury officers to 'ride shotgun' as the Humans would say. Commander Tucker was another worry however. The Chief Engineer was like a lightening rod for trouble. She stopped pacing, her thoughts inward. Recalling the look in his eyes just before the Away Team left. A sense that he was as disturbed by this species as she was despite his childlike eagerness to walk where angels feared to tread. But that was the Human Race for you. No notion of self preservation. No comprehension of the risks they took so casually with their lives and those who went with them. A reckless race yet they had qualities in compensation. Their compassion and need to form communities sometimes drew diametrically opposed races to them. Their oddness a magnet that other beings seemed to find hard to resist. Often to their peril. Her lips compressed tightly into a thin line. Even certain Vulcans it would seem were not immune.

Catching the concern on the boomer's face the Sub-Commander forced herself to calm down. Silently she went through some Vulcan calming exercises then began to recite the teachings of Surak. In alphabetical order. After all. This promised to be the longest of days.

***

The Commander stopped in his tracks, head back to stare up at the huge mosaic of light filaments that tangled with the crystal interlays. Such delicate intricate pathways he could not follow them all. A wiring diagram for the sun would be more straightforward than this. But that was what he found so exciting and exhilerating. This went beyond cutting edge technology. The chief binary biomolecular engineer Hyak detached himself from the middle of a console of light. The blaze of it had momentarily dazzled Trip so he had not at first seen the scientist. As he detached from the shining background, Trip took an involuntary step back to adjust his eyes.

"Hyak! I see it but I don't believe it. What is it an' where can I get one?"

Hyak made an odd noise then modulated his voice into a melodious tenor. Trip liked his voice, was pleased as punch Hoshi's universal translator was picking up more of the alien's nuances of speech than before. Still. Almost anything beat two cocoa tins and a piece of string. "This is our primary nexus. The equivalent of the brain stem if you liken it to the Human body."

That surprised the Chief Engineer. "Ya know about Human biology? Wait till Phlox gets a load of this."

"Phlox?"

"Ah, sorry, I mean Dr Phlox. Our physician."

"You have a doctor with you?"

Trip was smiling, still staring with undisguised pleasure at the huge light panels. "Yeah, Cap'n thought it would be useful."

"You are injured?"

The Chief Engineer forced himself to look at Hyak, unable to stop himself from laughing lightly. "No, but he's an important member of our crew. He keeps us fit an' healthy an' one way in which he keeps up to date as we travel through different parts of space is by comin' with us to some of the planets we visit. He'll take soil, plant samples that kind of thing. Test the air, take readin's of the bein's we encounter, then back at the ship he'll examine his findin's. In this way the doc can discover if there are any deseases we should be worried about. We have a decontamination chamber back on Enterprise to make sure anythin' we pick up on away missions doesn't get to evolve language skills on board ship. There's no tellin' what microscopic things might harm us. In fact we wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for Dr Phlox. He's saved our bacon more times than I care to count."

"Bacon?"

Another laugh. "Yeah, it means he's saved our asses. We would have just gone blunderin' in and got ourselves killed by now."

*You still might* thought Hyak silently.

"Okay, Hyak. Now are ya gonna tell me how this works or not?"

If Hyak had been able to do so he would have smiled. "I can do better than that for you, Commander. I will show you."

***

The vast reaches of space were nothing. Time was a construed ribbon of quantum mechanics that obeyed no Human rhyme but they were aware of the theory and many other musings from a myriad of exotic races about forces both subtle and rare as well as others beyond all understanding. The infinite mind of space could not have dreamt them into existence. Even the Gods of endless worlds would quail at the very notion. To breed chaos into such an insecure lifeform would seem wholly inappropriate yet stranger things had been born of flesh and blood no matter the colour, texture or physical composition. They conferred among their various sub-species. Delicately played with the mathematics of a higher race and sailed between solar systems dropping in and out of space and time like a needle stitching the fabric of eternity.

They had an agenda. A plan. A course preset for them while each thought they were shaping destiny to the unending glory of their race. None knew or suspected the true perspective. Unseen hands guided the pattern of their souls. Dark thoughts drove them. Twisted honour uplifted them. The doom they sought to escape slowly and inexorably tightened its' patient grip. Unknowing. Unseeing. They sailed on. Eternity watched with a calm impassive unblinking eye.

***

Captain Archer blinked. Surely not. He had misheard him. The universal translator was not working. The Ambassador waited. Watching him calmly. The Captain cleared his throat carefully. "I'm sorry, Ambassador, I seem to have misunderstood you. Please could you repeat that?"

"You will return to your ship now, Captain."

"But I thought we were going to eat with you, get to know you so that our two races can become allies?"

The Ambassador tilted his head slightly. The Captain found it somewhat disconcerting listening to the Ambassador talk when he had no mouth. He noticed his heavy cloak shift slightly and flickers of light seemed to sparkle in the folds yet he could not see clearly enough to satisfy his curiosity. A curiosity edged with a growing tinge of fear. "Captain, we have had a chance to evaluate your species and reluctantly realise that our forms of sustenance would be harmful to your race. What you would term poisonous."

Relief flooded his mind. The mundane explanation temporarily arresting his fanciful fears though he was still uneasy. Where were the others? How did they manage to get separated? He would have felt much happier if he could see Trip or Malcolm, or hear Hoshi talking or the doctor making his odd and often amusing observations. He could not even see the two armoury officers who had accompanied Lt Reed. It was all very unsettling. He did not realise that Ambassador Chot could easily read his thoughts, taste his aprehension and understand his reservations. "Oh, it never occurred to me that your food might be incompatible to our species. Thank you for the warning." He paused, still looking around him and craning his neck without trying to be too obvious about it. "Um, I can't seem to see any of my crew."

"They are currently taking advantage of our hospitality. Each examining different aspects of our culture and technology. I believe your doctor is fascinated by our biological composition and the pattern of our brain waves."

The Captain smiled. He could imagine that all too easily. "Yes, Dr Phlox is a very dedicated and gifted doctor. We are very lucky to have him."

Just then he heard faint voices slowly growing nearer. He turned his head but it was another full minute before Ensign Sato came into view through a huge ornate archway, deep in animated conversation with the Counsellor, the two armoury men trailing behind them. As they joined them the Ambassador turned to Hoshi. "I trust you have found your time with us of value to you?"

Hoshi beamed. "Yes, Ambassador. I can't believe you have 47 languages making up the major tongue and thirty two minor tongues. How do you remember so many complex variations?"

"Ah, do you like music Ensign?"

She nodded. "Yes, I love it."

"Do you like just one type of music?"

"No, I..." She broke off, realised what he had been about to say and smiled at him. "You liken the diversity of language to that of music?"

He inclined his head. "We enjoy infinite variation. We celebrate the complex levels of life. Are not all forms precious? Is not all music a gift of sound? A celebration of the silences that punctuate and fashion each note to perfection?"

Hoshi laughed. Delighted. "I've never heard it put that way before, Ambassador. You have a unique perspective and I thank you for sharing it with me."

The Ambassador bowed formally. "The pleasure was my gift. Know that you are welcome among us."

Captain Archer stared. Stunned by the courtesy and respect being shown to his communications officer and ridiculously pleased with himself for bringing her with them. Maybe they would not get feted the way he had expected with exotic foods and fabulous wines but this was going better than he had expected. Except for one thing. "Ambassador."

"You have a request, Captain?"

"Yes, though I do not wish to offend by asking for your assistance our situation is grave enough for me to approach you."

"Then speak Captain and let no unsaid words make war between us."

He blinked. What did he mean by that? Had he just been threatened or reassured? "I assure you Ambassador we seek only information. Our homeworld was recently attacked by a race we have never heard of. They call themselves the Xindi. This may sound fantastic but this race have travelled through time to strike at our homeworld--Earth--in order to destroy the Human Race."

Said aloud like that it did sound pretty ridiculous but Captain Archer was firm and solemn in putting the facts as they stood before the Ambassador. From what he could see this race, the Zenari, were obviously very advanced technologically and appeared to be an ancient species. How old he could not tell.

"Why would they wish to harm your people, Captain?"

"Apparently they believe that in the future our race will destroy theirs. I have no idea where they have such an idea from but they appear to believe it."

"Then they are trying to protect themselves?"

He blinked again. Ah. "From their perspective, yes, but we have made no offensive overtures to them I assure you and I cannot imagine that in the future we would wage war on them or seek to wipe them out."

"A future, Captain, you cannot see."

He felt uncomfortable. "That is true, Ambassador."

"Then how do we know which side is blameless in any conflict? To assist one over the other would be an act of aggression we had not intended. Your war is not our war."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not asking you to intervene just if you have any information about the Xindi? Anything that can help me understand them so I can make contact with them and try to difuse a potentially apocolyptic future from unfolding. We don't want anyone to die, Ambassador. Not our people, not theirs, but if we have to defend ourselves we will do so."

***

Commander Tucker was smiling. His hands following the convoluted paths of light. Listening to Hyak instruct him without turning his head, all his attention on the complex frame of light. It seemed to change from moment to moment. At one point it looked like a huge light panel, then a complex piece of circuitry, each blink of the eye revealing a new face. He was fascinated. Could feel the power of it. As he reached out the power seemed to embrace him in such a subtle way he was neither alarmed nor in any way harmed. It was almost a layer of warmth touching his skin, oblivious of the layers of clothing imbetween. He had never felt or sensed anything quite like it. But that was not the shock. As he adjusted to it and stepped deeper into the construct trickles of light rained through the pores of his skin. Enervated him and heightened his sense of awareness. He could *feel* the light now. Converse with the energy softly pulsing through him, shining through his eyelids and flickering in slow elongated waves through his torso.

"Wow, this is incredible, Hyak..." He enthused in quiet awe.

Pleased with his reaction the biomolecular engineer murmured softly in response. "Commander..."

"Call me Trip."

"Trip. Think don't speak."

*How does that work?*

Trip felt Hyak smile in his mind only it was not in his mind, it was his WHOLE body. Wired for sound. *Perfectly*.

*How is this possible?*

*Patterns of light. Light is energy. Energy is power. Life. Strength. Our patterns have merged if only briefly to allow you this connection. So that you may understand our engineering is beyond the physical."

*Huh?*

*This is not what you would call telepathy, Trip*

*Ya kiddin' me? This is some kind of psychic mumbo jumbo*

*No. We are in coincidence*

*Come again?*

*In phase*

That expression clicked in the Commander's brain and understanding was swift to follow. He had his eyes closed now as if having a light shower. It was weird, beautiful and totally mesmerising. Gently warmth washed his nerve endings and seemed to flush through every cell in his body with feelings of well being that brought him to the brink of ecstasy. He had never felt so relaxed, so content. He loved it. Now that Hyak had showed him how, he was aware that the biomolecular engineer was pleased. Happy with him. *Hyak? Is this your energy source?*

Humour. *A manifestation of part of it. Yes*

Part? *What the hell does that mean?*

*What do you want it to mean?*

A pause. *Are ya playin' with me?*

*We are endlessly playing with each other it is just that some games are more serious that others are they not?*

He thought about that but was determined to let nothing spoil his current obssession. *Tell me about this. What it does*

*Ask yourself*

*What kind of answer is that?*

*Ask* Came the softer response this time.

He paused then just decided to go with it. What the hell, when in Rome and all that. *What are you?*

The answer did not come in words, or thoughts, but rippled through him in a feeling, a deep gentle flowing sense of meaning. The closest he could get to what it was saying was 'reflections'. He was not sure he was any wiser. Then he felt Hyak's thoughts gently ebb into the stream of his consciousness.

*Come. Your Captain grows restless*

He felt a swift surge of irritation quickly smothered by his sense of duty. Nevertheless he knew he would miss this. *You can always return, Trip*

*I'd like that*

Then he was out of the light. Emerged from the energy to feel the dull heavy weight of normalacy like some cumbersome cloak dulling his movements and slowing his wits. He felt the insane urge to cry at the sense of loss. To his surprise Hyak placed a hand on his shoulder in what seemed like a gesture of comfort. "When you are unhappy or distressed think of us and embrace our light."

He nodded, unable to form the words he wanted to thank him. Hyak understood. In silence they left the engineering nexus and began to make their way back to the others.

***

On the bridge of Enterprise Sub-Commander T'Pol straightened in the command chair. The Captain's assertion that they would be returning shortly greatly relieving her growing sense of unease. She did not ask if they were all accounted for and unharmed. If the Captain was returning he would not be leaving anyone behind. He sounded happy and that made her relax.

Ensign Mayweather watched the tension fall from the Vulcan's shoulders. Her facial expression became a calm mask once more rather than a tight and rigid effort at control. They would all breathe more easily once the crew were reunited.

***

The quality of the reliefs that Lt Reed had so marvelled at no longer held the joy and fascination they had once done. Figures moving across an unwritten landscape had outmanouvred him. He gasped out loud when they broke into three dimensions. His eyes widening in undisguised horror and alarm he found himself screaming when they surrounded him and the first clawed hand touched his skin.


	5. The Iron Fist

It was such an odd feeling. The way the huge overbearing oppulence of the crystal chamber weighed down on him. The strange sutble vibes he was getting from these exotic aliens. It made him feel worse than uncomfortable. It made him feel naked. Vulnerable. Dr Phlox looked away from the multi-layered ceiling and took a moment to calm his senses. Chaos strumming through him and so loud that it was almost painful. As he calmed down he found himself more able to take in the conversation. Scientist Rantar guided the doctor, pointing out friezes of interest and the patterns hidden within patterns. It made his head feel light as if his changing perspective was affecting his sense of balance. The Denobulan stopped abruptly in his tracks. Rantar paused and stared at him. Infinitely patient. His glossy black eyes seeming to swallow the words on the tip of his tongue leaving him mute. That was odd. Strange in the extreme. Now he could not remember what he had been going to say. He turned his head and found himself alone with the Scientist and wondered where the others were. When he turned back to Rantar to ask him he found himself quite alone.

For several moments he did not move. His hearing was not as acute as a Vulcan's but it was keener than that of his Human colleagues and the range was wider. The same was also true of the visible spectrum. He could see lightwaves invisible to both Humans and Vulcans. Taste and smell were acute but lacked discernment in the more bland flavourings. Spices. Now spices he could sub-quantify to his heart's content but alas he was a lot slower with the toxicity of poisons. By the time he realised danger was imminent he was already losing consciousness. Odd how the ceiling fractured on its' way down to meet the floor. The intricate multilayered lattice of carvings making room for him in the cool maze that reformed round him then bore him up on high. Peculiar sensations rippled through his veins. As consciousness faded something else took its' place. A state that was neither awake nor asleep. Trapped somewhere between. He felt dizzy but with a sharper awareness than he would have expected. So sharp that he felt keenly the shape of every word spoken so succinctly into his mind.

It took several long laborious minutes for him to realise they were not speaking to him but about him.

"Why let the spy live?"

"I am curious."

"Curiosity is not necessary for function."

"No, but it informs the senses does it not? Why did they bring him? Among a ship of Humans?"

"He is their doctor. The engineer called him a physician."

"Who is he spying on? Them or us?"

"They did not know we were here."

"Yet they travel with a Vulcan." A pause as if that negated his defence. "We will question him."

"He will be devious."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yes. His lies will reveal the levels of his deceit. We will peel back each layer until the seed of his intent can be dissected."

"He is Denobulan. They are very resistent."

"All of which will add to our knowledge."

"We must not kill him."

"No. Not yet."

"Not even then."

A pause. Shifting weights shivering through his immobile limbs. Cool trickles of something slithered and crept through his veins. Heat and cold alternately prickled along his nerve endings making him tremble uncontrollaby. Vision ghosted and fractured his compound retinas until all sight was a cornucopia of halos overlapping each other and bending light beyond the colours of the spectrum. It was not so much painful as disconcerting. He wanted to scream for them to stop. Sensations crawling through his brain on spikey legs that dragged sounds through his ears like rucks in a carpet when something heavy is dragged across it not lifted. It was beyond the notion of pain. A heightening of sensitivity that made his skin crawl inside out and fragmented every definition he knew of fear until it screamed back at him. They were quite literally taking him apart but not in the physical meaning of the term. They would not mark him but this invasion would be more devastating. Orchestrating a trauma that would flay alive his senses until he quivered with living nightmares that knew his name. This was so much more subtle. A cruelty more refined. A fear that could be increased without limit.

"Give him voice."

Dr Phlox found he could now open his mouth. Without even thinking about it he used his newfound freedom to test his lungs. The scream reverberating off the intricate carvings that bent the sounds and warped them in ways that came back to torment him. He had the horribly sick suspicion that the sound never left the confines of his vaulted prison. Flattened like some laboratory specimen, he began to discover the purpose of the lattice work that bound him. A guiding framework for the precision of a very precise kind of torture. Something scraped across his eyes. He could not blink to protect them. Shuddered at the creepy sensation. Panicked at the thought that they could take his sight.

"Spy." Said a voice dipped in ice and breathing sulphur. "Why are you here?"

The doctor tried to speak. Form words. But he was choking. Fear made him clumsy. The sensations that were riddling his senses made his body jerk continually. Nothing obeying him. Something like ultra fine needles impaled his flesh. Not in one place but many. Each needle had a different angle, a different speed and depth of penetration, a different target. He flopped his head helplessly from side to side as if in denial. Seeking only some meagre measure of escape, a comfort for his soul however small. They misunderstood him. Whether on purpose or by accident he could not tell. The next scream was louder, longer and filled with a much more primative pain. They tested his agony and improved on it. Like musicians before a concert they toyed with and adjusted every delicate incision to coax the desired response. The needles drawing the most exquisite sounds from his quivering vocal chords.

"Ah. It is good to hear the spy sing."

"What of his song?"

"It matters not. Soon he will tell us everything. Even the things he does not yet know."

***

Captain Archer was impatient. Where were the others? He would be furious with Trip if he had wandered off or in any way offended their hosts. He did not want anything to mar this first contact. Ambassador Chot was the very epitomy of a polite and respectful host. Flattered, the Captain was pleased to see Ensign Sato beaming at the Counsellor. He was beginning to get anxious when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning he smiled at the sight of Commander Tucker and Lt Reed in animated discussions with their counterparts. Both seemed somewhat distracted when he spoke to them, nodding pleasantly enough but continuing to talk about their specialities. The Captain frowned. Where was Dr Phlox? If he had to bet money on who would be bringing up the rear he would have expected it to be Trip. He looked at the two armoury officers and was about to ask Sub-Commander T'Pol to com the doctor when the Denobulan hurried into view. He looked breathless, two Zenari accompanying him in their long dark plush robes, dark eyes shining, fell light glittering as they drifted across the polished crystal floor. The Captain hardly noticed such was his relief.

Ambassador Chot inclined his head graciously. "We regret we can assist you no further, Captain, but wish you good luck in your efforts to gain the knowledge you seek."

The Captain was disappointed but appreciated the sentiment. "Thank you, Ambassador. On behalf of myself and my crew I would like to thank you once again for your hospitality."

Once all the courtesies had been exchanged, the Captain nodded to Malcolm and they boarded the shuttlepod. Lifting off he had mixed feelings. While excited and overawed by the wonder and level of the alien technology it was frustrating to discover that the Zenari wanted to remain neutral and would not take sides even in friendly alliance. He supposed he could understand it. The Zenari did not know them. This was their first meeting with Humans and after their disastrous first contact with the Vulcans this had gone more smoothly than he could possibly have hoped for. He sighed then smiled. Admiral Forest would be disappointed but at least they had not made any new enemies.

He noticed the away team were somewhat subdued, no doubt overcome by the things they had seen. Ensign Sato caught his eye and beamed at him. "How did you get on with the Counsellor, Ensign?"

"She was very helpful, Captain. I can't believe how many languages and sub-languages they have! This has to be the most complex social structure we've come across. I have enough information to keep a stack of xeno-linguists busy for years."

He laughed, enjoying her enthusiasm. Commander Tucker turned his head and smiled at him. Before the Captain could say anything Trip had turned away and was saying something to Lt Reed. The Captain turned back to face the front and activated the com. "Archer to Enterprise."

"Enterprise."

"Sub-CommanderT'Pol we are on our way back. Meet us in the shuttle bay and have Travis ready to break orbit."

"Captain?"

"I'll tell you all about it when I see you, Sub-Commander. Archer out."

***

Space warped, stretched, and bent. The very fabric seeming to flex in the wake of the sphere. Light years vanished like mist in the heat of the sun. Even in the limitless wastes of eternity there was nothing so vast as ignorance.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol stood ramrod straight, her hands clasped behind her back, arms straight. Her look unreadable as she listened to the mission debrief. The Captain was disappointed but animated. Ensign Sato was so talkative that it was beginning to irritate the Vulcan, more so because the others were so subdued. She looked at Dr Phlox, noticed his trademark smile was muted but his eyes seemed flat. The normally bright twinkle absent. Perhaps he was just tired? They had after all been on the planet for just over seven hours and from the Captain's report the promised feast had not materialised. That would also account for the Chief Engineer's silence. The man was almost obssessive in his love of food. What of the Lieutenant though? She looked at Lt Reed. The Armoury Officer appeared to be paying keen attention to everything the Captain said, his sensitive face tilted towards his commanding officer in an attentive manner that she approved of. The two armoury officers were not included on the debriefing but had been given leave to take the rest of the day off.

"You should have seen it, Sub-Commander." Continued the Captain, eyes bright and face slightly flushed. "It was incredible! I've never seen anything like it. They have technology that is centuries ahead of anything we have."

She nodded. She had seen a brief glimpse on their first visit. The Captain turned to Trip. "What about the energy source, Commander? Can it be adapted to Enterprise?"

The Commander looked solemn, his features composed. "Sorry Cap'n, none of it would be compatible."

The disappointment on the Captain's face was palpable. "But I thought they said we could adapt it to use on our ship?"

"Yeah, that was before we got down to specifics, Cap'n. It's far too advanced. The moment we tried to link it up with our systems it would overload every relay and destabilise the warp core."

The Captain paled. "What the hell could be powerful enough to do that?"

Trip shrugged. "Don't ask me, I've never seen anything that advanced. I have to tell ya I haven't been this disappointed in years. It's kind'a depressin'."

Well that explained his subdued mood, thought the Captain. Sub-Commander T'Pol frowned slightly then looked at the Lieutenant. He shook his head. "They don't have weapons systems like we do, Captain. They have something they call a Negation Field."

The Captain looked non-plussed. "A what?"

"A Negation Field. It prevents anyone entering the field from being able to discharge a weapon. Apparently it surrounds the planet and extends a quarter of a parsec in every direction. A sort of non-aggression zone."

"Pity we couldn't find out how they created it, we could use something like that to protect Earth not to mention other planets we encounter that have aggressive neighbours."

He looked at Dr Phlox now. The Denobulan said nothing until the Captain prompted him. "Doctor? What did you find out? Anything of interest?"

He pushed out his bottom lip and took a moment before replying. "I have never seen a species like this before, Captain. To tell the truth I'm not sure what to make of them."

"Well that's an honest answer." Quipped the Captain with a grin. "So are they very different from us? They're obviously bipedal but after that I wouldn't want to hazzard a guess."

"Wise decision, Captain."

When the doctor did not continue the Captain prompted him again. "You were saying, you've never seen a species like them. Go on."

"They do not appear to have nervous systems like our three species do. We have differences of course, our organs are placed differently, some have a different function, but there are rudimentary things all three of our species have in common." He paused. "The Zenari have nothing in common with any of us."

That piqued the Captain's curiosity. "What are you saying, doctor?"

A slight pause. "I would have to say they are very alien aliens, Captain."

***

Once on the bridge Captain Archer gave Ensign Mayweather a nod. "Travis, resume our previous course for the edge of the Expanse. It's time we went to pick up our Marines."

"Yes, sir."

He watched the boomer lay in the course, noticed Ensign Sato was yawning. "Hoshi?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"You are now officially off duty. I suggest you go and get some sleep."

"Yes, sir."

He gazed for a long time at the screen in front of him. Watching Zeon drop away before them as Travis took them out of orbit. Stifling a yawn of his own he nodded to the Beta Shift as they came on the bridge to relive them. Falling into step alongside the Sub-Commander he sneaked a glance at her stiff profile. Curiosity finally getting the better of him once they were in the corridor. "Sub-Commander, may I ask you a question?"

Surprised that he would ask if he could ask a question she raised an eyebrow and looked at him, her step slowing as she took in his expression. "What do you wish to ask, Captain?"

"You didn't seem too happy when we returned. I was curious as to why."

If anything her eyebrow rose a shade higher. "I do not trust the Zenari, Captain."

"I know that Sub-Commander but nothing happened. Your concerns proved groundless."

She frowned. "Groundless?"

He felt himself flush slightly. "What I meant was..."

"No apology is necessary Captain but you are mistaken. Our previous contact with this species was sufficient grounds for the exercise of extreme caution."

"We were cautious, Sub-Commander."

"Your definition of caution differs from mine, Captain."

He was not quite able to hide a smirk. "In what way?"

Something in her look hardened. "You were foolish, Captain."

He flushed, about to defend himself when she continued. After all. The Captain *had* asked.

"Your actions could easily have endangered not only the away team but this ship and crew. It was a risk that did not need to be taken."

The Captain halted, clearly angry and trying to hold his temper. "That is your opinion, Sub-Commander but I had already discussed the matter with Admiral Forest and was instructed to make first contact. As it turned out it was the correct decision."

T'Pol said nothing. Her expression said she was not impressed and would with hold judgement. For what he did not know but right now the last thing he wanted to do was spend another minute in the company of his unbending and overly critical Science Officer.

"Now if you'll excuse I am rather tired, Sub-Commander."

"Goodnight, Captain."

She watched him stalk off. A thoughtful expression on her face. She considered the time and changed direction, heading for Commander Tucker's quarters. They were due to meditate together and it would be an ideal opportunity to discover just what had happened down on that planet. When she reached his quarters she was surprised to have to ring three times before he answered.

"Commander."

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her, not stepping back from the doorway to let her in. "Sub-Commander, it's late. Shouldn't ya be sleepin' like all good little Vulcans?"

"We usually meditate, Commander. A practice you stated assisted you in procuring sleep."

An odd look flitted briefly over his face then he stepped back. "Oh, of course, I forgot."

T'Pol frowned but stepped inside. She noted he had made no attempt to change into his sleeping clothes. She wondered whether to suggest he do so now so that he could be more comfortable but something about his posture suggested that this would not be welcomed. It was as she turned from the door that she noticed the Commander was not alone. Sitting on the chair by his desk was Lt Reed. T'Pol suddenly felt uncomfortable. She looked up at the Commander's face. What was going on?

"I am sorry Commmander I did not intend to interrupt anything."

"It's okay, the Lieutenant was just going."

Without a word Lt Reed got to his feet, gave Trip a look T'Pol could not decipher then left. He did not speak or nod to the Sub-Commander. She wondered what it was she had interrupted. Before she could persue that line of thought any further the Commander spoke to her. "Shall we get started, Sub-Commander?"

She nodded. Not speaking. Her thoughts something of a whirl. His attitude strangely detached. Maybe he was just tired? She should not read too much into it but part of her was unsettled. The warmth she usually detected in his eyes was missing. If she did not know better she would have said she was looking into the eyes of a stranger.

***

It was unusually quiet in sickbay. The varied menagerie that Dr Phlox coddled and maintained were strangely silent. The doors swished open and Lt Reed walked through to the room the doctor used as an office. Dr Phlox was sitting facing the door as if expecting him. He raised his eyes and just looked at the Lieutenant.

For several minutes neither spoke then Lt Reed shut the door and looked at the doctor. Another minute passed before he spoke. "There's been a complication."

***

Captain Archer was tired. It had been a full and exciting day but the ending had left him with ashes in his mouth. A bitter aftertaste that he recognised as disappointment. He had been pinning a lot of hope on the Zenari and it had all come to nothing. As much as he hated to admit it Sub-Commander T'Pol had been right. He had taken a needless risk yet their situation was desperate. This was in defence of Earth for God's sake. Couldn't she see how important it was to leave no stone unturned? What if the Zenari had the critical piece of the puzzle that could mean the difference between saving Earth or seeing it fall? Wasn't it worth annoying the odd Vulcan to find out?

He sighed, poured himself a glass of cold water and drank half of it down straight away. He waited until he had calmed down a little then went over to his computer terminal and typed in the access code that would patch him through to Admiral Forest. It took a few minutes to connect. He finished his water and put the glass next to a picture of himself and Commander Tucker standing with their arms around each other and a dirty great marlin held between them. The proud grins on their faces proclaiming the fact that they had caught it in the fishing boat they were standing in front of. The Florida Keys. Happy memories. He sighed again as the link went through and the logo changed to reveal the Admiral's face. The Captain smiled at his old friend.

"Admiral, sorry for contacting you so late but you said to get in touch as soon as I had any news for you."

The Admiral nodded, his face eager, eyes bright and hopeful. "What happened?"

"Well, the first contact went well. Better than well it went great." Admiral Forest beamed. The Captain gave him a rueful look. "Unfortunately they had no information to give us on the Xindi and they didn't want to get into an alliance with us because they didn't know us or the Xindi. Didn't want to find themselves trapped between two warring factions."

Admiral Forest frowned. "That's not what I was hoping to hear, Jon."

"I know, me neither but I can't say I blame them. If we look at this from their point of view all the risks are on their side. After all, we could have been lying to them."

"What were they able to tell you?"

"Not much just that the Expanse isn't what we think it is."

"Then what is it?"

The Captain shrugged bent down and fussed a sleepy Porthos before picking the beagle up and sitting at his desk. "I never did find out exactly only that the Zenari call it a Holy Space, whatever the hell that is."

There was a wry expression on the Admiral's face. "It can hardly be Hell if they call it a Holy Space."

Captain Archer chuckled. He really was dead tired. "At least we parted on amicable terms."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I've already ordered Travis to lay in a course for the edge of the Expanse where we're to pick up the MACOs. Maybe we didn't get what we want but once we have our marine contingent we should be able to pack more of a punch if anyone tries to pick on us."

The Admiral nodded. "Good idea. I'm sorry the Zenari didn't work out, Jon, I know you'll keep looking. Just be careful out there, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

The Admiral gave an affectionate smile. "And don't be such a smart ass."

The Captain laughed and waved him off. They wished each other good night then he killed the link. Tired as he was he did not think he would be able to sleep. Listlessly he stripped off his uniform and pulled on his pajamas. With a last hug for Porthos he climbed into bed and lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts fretting about the time line, the temporal war and how in the hell they were going to stop the Xindi. No way would he be able to sleep. All his worries joining hands and racing around inside his skull like angry bees. A yawn escaped. As he contemplated whether or not to turn off the light he fell asleep.


	6. No Game

She was wary but affected indifference. Her cool exterior masking the growing sense that something was wrong. Commander Tucker was polite if reserved and allowed her to dictate the pace, carefully obeying her quietly spoken instructions. When the cushions and candles had been placed to her satisfaction on the floor she watched him watching her with veiled eyes and a half smile on his handsome face. It was a smile that chilled her to the bone. She waited for him to kneel, her body poised and appearing to be perfectly relaxed as he waited for her to join him.

"I apologise Commander, it is later than I thought."

A small frown chased the false smile from his face. Better. In his eyes something glittered that was not pleased. "We are both awake, Sub-Commander, and as you so rightly said I do need my tensions easing."

She noticed his accent had all but flattened out. Interesting. She took a slow step back towards the door, her eyes fastened on his. Her look placid and deceptively calm. "We will resume our normal meditations tomorrow, Commander. I should not have disturbed you."

"Nonsense." He was also rising to his feet now. Somehow his fluid movements not quite human. A small unreasoning fear began to grow in her. "We should do this now, Sub-Commander. I *insist*."

As he said the last word he closed the distance. His movements a blur of the eye that only instinct could combat. Pressed up against the wall she had time only to react in the time honoured ritual of the ancient Vulcan martial arts that had become more a curiosity than a skill of late. The first blow caught him unawares. Bought valuable time and a little space as the body sagged away from her. Her foot arched and kicked out catching him under the chin as she jabbed with the edge of her palm in a swift chopping motion that threw him backwards breaking the small table next to the bed in his fall. He regained his feet quickly. All semblance of affability, all notion that this was simply a meeting of friends, torn from his visage like the mannered confection it was.

A voice she did not recognise echoed cold and dispiteously turning the room into a chamber of ice. "Your kind have meddled once too often, Vulcan."

"What have you done with Commander Tucker?"

The eyes flashed then darkened, turning so black that they seemed to swallow the ambient light in the room. The candles went out. The warmth gone, the icebox turned to zero. T'Pol could feel her teeth chattering. While her tolerance to heat was remarkable she had little resistance to the plunging temperature. The figure before her still looked so achingly familiar that she had to harden her heart as well as her resolve. Block out all thoughts of Commander Tucker. This was not him. The alien that wore his face was a danger to them all. She shuddered. Slivers of ice freezing her veins even as she resisted. The teachings of Surak fragmenting in her mind as she struggled to keep control. Then she thought of Trip. The impulsive, compassionate, talkative human. His warmth. His irrepressible and often baffling sense of humour. His endless small attempts at friendship, his gentleness and kindness. How he got himself into endless awkward and sometimes dangerous situations through his impulsive need to help others even when it put both himself and his colleagues in danger. He was irritating. Irrational. Lacking in discipline, emotional and illogical. But most importantly, he was her friend. Loyal, truthful, not lacking in courage and with the ability of self sacrifice that she had not expected to find among Human attributes. He challenged her preconceptions as she challenged his. Opening up a channel to understanding that was unique and treasured.

Now this creature was using his form to move among them. No doubt to betray Enterprise and her crew to some dark purpose as yet unknown to her but bound she was sure to the mysterious Zenari. She was in no doubt now which enemy she truly faced. As the creature reached out to grip her throat the Vulcan Sub-Commander affected more weakness than she felt, slowed her movements and blinked as if in confusion. The creature paused to smile Trip's smile but it did not animate the copied flesh, did not reach the black shine of its' alien eyes. It gloated and that was its' mistake.

Using every trick, every thing she had ever learned in her long hard years of schooling, Sub-Commander T'Pol became a whirlwind of precise and deadly movements. Her limbs deadly weapons. Her will as implaccable and unremitting as a machine. Within seconds it was over. Breath labouring T'Pol leaned a hand on the wall and struggled to inflate overtaxed lungs. The creature was not simply dead. It was in pieces. The flesh broken away and scattered among the matchwood that had been the Commander's desk and chair, his small side table almost reduced to sawdust under the sprawled and bloody main torso. She was flecked with blood but did not immediately leave the loathsome spectacle. As she regained control and recovered her mind reviewed what had happened. When she came to the Commander's quarters this creature had not been alone. Lt Reed had been with him. A Lt Reed that had completely ignored her. A Lt Reed that seemed to have a private agenda with this version of the Commander. That could mean only one thing.

T'Pol stumbled into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. Slowly she set about cleaning herself up. Removing all traces of the conflict. Tidying up her uniform and hair so that no one would look twice when they saw her. She knew now that Lt Reed was almost certainly another of these alien copies. How many of the true Away Team had returned to Enterprise? Reluctantly she realised she could not afford to trust any of them.

***

The dark shade descended through the high ceiling of the Audience Chamber in a thick column of black smoke. As it reached the dias the black lightened into charcoal then grey. A disembodied voice broke the news. "We are detected."

Ambassador Chot did not seem surprised. His aide stood silently next to him. "The Vulcan?"

"She suspects."

"How?"

"Apparently the Commander has an arrangement with her. When he did not keep to the schedule she came to his quarters."

"What did you do?"

"I left his shade to fulfill the obligation."

"Did it work?"

"We have yet to hear back from him."

The Ambassador seemed to mull this over. "Did you check?"

"No. With the Vulcan already suspicious we did not need to do anything else to destroy our cover."

"Very well. Return and play out your parts as if nothing had happened. Watch her closely. If she appears to know more than her suspicion--kill her."

"The Captain will surely..."

"The Captain is a fool. He hears what he wants to hear, believes what he wants to believe, and he will reap the reward as is his due."

"Why not simply remove him?"

"You know why. His foolhardy nature will serve us better. How far are they from their rendezvous?"

"Less than four hours."

"Good. Soon we will be in a position to educate these fools in the one way they will truly understand."

"What way is that, excellency?" Asked Kentak.

The Ambassador half turned towards his aide. "We will give them what they want."

The shade began to darken again preparatory to returning to the incubus. "I will leave you now, excellency."

The Ambassador inclined his head slightly in mute benediction then the column rose and vanished up through the high vault of the ceiling. Up through the emptiness of space. Through the sleeping skin of the ship and back to the figure sitting immobile on Lt Reed's bed. The eyes swirled a dark glossy ink then gradually cleared letting a facsimile of Human pupils occupy the borrowed orbs. Once one got beyond the confines of technology, creation was child's play.

***

The crystal chamber was huge but seemed to echo with a kind of emptiness it had not had before. Commander Tucker had followed the eerie sound that had so reminded him of muted screams that his skin had crawled with goose bumps. He had not been this discomfitted since childhood. How stupid was that? Yet he was not reassured when he could find no sign of the Captain or the others. What the hell was that noise anyway? Perhaps it was the air moving through the intricate friezes pierced into the many layered ceiling or walls? Damned if he knew but it was creeping him out. He did not like it. Elaborate, exotic, expensive it might be but relaxing and reassuring it was not.

He found the Lieutenant shivering and staring with wide eyed terror at the most beautiful frieze he had ever seen. The man's eyes were as round as saucers, his eyes glued to the frieze, his steps retreating slowly backwards as if in fear.

"Mal?" Said Trip quietly, instinct softening his voice in an attempt not to alarm his friend. Deciding the informal term of address would help put his friend at ease.

He did not look hurt but he did look traumatised. Was it his scream he had heard? Hot damn if that didn't frighten him more than anything. The Armoury Officer was one of the bravest men he knew. He could not begin to imagine what could have terrified him enough to cause that scream. Part of him did not want to know.

"Are ya alright?"

Lt Reed took a few more steps back, still not daring to look away from the frieze. "Commander?"

"Who were ya expectin'?" Trip tried to joke then spoke again when he got no response. "C'mon Mal, you're beginnin' to creep me out. Let's go find the Cap'n and get back to Enterprise."

The Lieutenant took another few paces then risked a glance at Trip. At least it looked like Trip. He gave a huff of relief. Trip noticed his face was white, completely devoid of colour.

"What the hell happened? Ya look like death warmed up."

"Thanks, remind me never to recommend you for the position of counselor."

"Don't worry I wouldn't take it. Give me a Warp 5 any day."

A smile almost made it to Lt Reed's lips then he shuddered. "Can we just get out of here?"

He did not say *please* but it was inferred. Commander Tucker nodded and fell into step alongside his shaken friend. Only when they left the frieze far behind them did the man begin to relax. Trip looked at him anxiously. "What happened? I thought I heard somebody scream."

Lt Reed looked embarrassed. "Um yes, that was me I'm afraid Commander."

"What happened?"

The Lieutenant stopped walking, took a steadying breath and looked at the Commander. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Why would I laugh?"

"Just... promise. It's important Co.. Trip."

That did it, things were really serious if the Lieutenant was calling him Trip while on duty. Something had really rattled him and no mistake. "Ya got my word, Malcolm."

"I was looking at that frieze with the Arms Master. One minute we were discussing the pros and cons of its' intricate construction. I was marvelling at the detail and literally got lost in it." He paused and when Trip said nothing he repeated himself. "I got lost in it, Trip."

"I heard ya I'm just not sure what you mean."

Lt Reed sighed and ran a nervous hand through his hair. He felt so damn foolish now. Like some kid in a haunted house when he finds out the shadows on the wall aren't monsters. Only in this instance he was not so sure. "I'm saying that one minute I was looking at them, admiring them, then I seemed to get drawn *inside* them. The Arms Master disappeared. I was alone and the frieze had somehow become three dimensional trapping me inside it."

He could not blame Trip for the look of incredulity that stole across his face. "Must'a been an illusion, Mal."

He nodded. "That's what I thought at first." He began to roll up his right sleeve. "Until a claw reached out and cut me. That's when I screamed."

Trip looked down and swore. Halfway up the Lieutenant's right bicep were the unmistakable cut marks of three claws. The cuts were not particularly deep but enough to break the skin and draw blood. He looked at the Lieutenant, his face going pale. "I think it's time we got outta here."

Lt Reed nodded, calmly rolling his bloody sleeve back down. Trip pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to him. "Here, take this, you're bleedin' all over the place." He paused and grinned suddenly. "Don't want ya messin' up all the expensive floorin' now do we?"

"I don't give a ruddy damn about their stupid floor if you must know. This is one illusion that is far too life-like for comfort."

Trip nodded, his expression serious. "Ya won't get any argument from me."

In silence they began to systematically walk the entire length and breadth of the crystal chamber. As huge as it was. As many great ornate doorways as they found. They did not find one that led them back out.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol was in her own quarters. The incense was only mildly calming. In the flickering candlelight she could not find peace. Meditation was going to elude her yet she needed to calm down. Think clearly. Her instinct wanted her to take immediate action but she would do nothing that would bring further harm to Enterprise or her crew. Instead, as she gazed into the candle flame she kept recalling the features of the copy she had fought. It stirred something in her memory. Something she should have remembered. Something that was now illusive to her. The hours began to pass, her breathing evened out, a modicom of control had returned to her. Her chaotic thoughts were finding their reasoned pathways. Her eyes began to close with the warmth of the candle flame soothing her lids.

As they closed a name sprang into her mind and her eyes startled open. Travis. Her heartrate began to increase. Of course. How could she have forgotten? Swiftly she blew out the candle and rose to her feet. It took moments only to dress. Time was of the essence and she was sure the boomer would forgive her waking him at this hour. She could not afford to delay and risk giving the enemy any further advantage.

***

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Commander Tucker was frustrated and getting more than a little worried. "What d'ya think's goin' on, Malcolm?"

The Lieutenant was decidedly jumpy but in much better condition than when the Commander had first found him. He had his phase pistol in his hand and looked ready to shoot the first thing that did not have a southern accent. "I think this was a trap from start to finish."

Trip nodded. "My thoughts exactly." He was turning slowly, looking at the huge beautiful complexity of the crystal chamber. He could not imagine any species living and breathing that would not look upon this place with awe. His eyes scanned the friezes, the ornamental doorways that led nowhere, the high vaulted pierced ceiling with crystal backdrops carved in fabulous detail. He was still turning on the spot, looking and craning his neck as he spoke. "What do you give the man who has everything?"

Startled out of his reverie Lt Reed was not in the mood for the southerner's light hearted banter. "Be serious, Commander. This isn't a bloody game."

The Commander stopped looking round and turned to face his friend. "I am bein' serious. And you're wrong. A game is *exactly* what this is."

"What?"

"It's what they said. We *all* play games, just some are more serious than others."

The Lieutenant thought about that for a moment, his voice quieter now. "Your point being?"

Trip spoke patiently, willing his reluctant friend to go along with him on this. "What do you give the man who has everything?"

Lt Reed gave a long suffering sigh. "Alright, what *do* you give the man who has everything?"

The Commander spread his arms out to indicate the whole huge crystal chamber. "Ya give him a box to put it in."

He watched the Armoury Officer's face as enlightenment dawned. "Bloody hell! I think you've hit the nail on the head, Commander. This *is* a box. A very expensive, very elaborate box. But why all the subterfuge?"

"T'Pol tired to warn us, remember? She said 'they lie'. Even though T'Pol's been with us since the beginnin', has proved her loyalty to Enterprise time and time again, when push came to shove who did we believe?"

Lt Reed looked stricken. "Bugger!"

"We believed the first exotic alien race to offer us the ultimate eye candy."

"Eye candy?"

Trip looked around at their exotic surroundings which encouraged Lt Reed to do the same. He nodded. "Eye candy." Understanding now. He could feel his heart sinking and gave his friend a solemn look. "You have my complete and undivided attention, Commander. This *is* a box. We are trapped inside it. Now how the ruddy hell are we going to get out of it?"

"Somehow I don't think 'Open Sezame' or 'Speak Friend and enter' will work."

"Commander..."

"Okay, okay, keep your shirt on. If there's a way in there's gotta be a way out but what if it's configured like a non-return valve or a lobster pot?"

The Lieutenant gave a long suffering sigh. "Less colourful metaphors would make for a clearer understanding of your intent, Commander."

"I'm just sayin' what if this box was only designed to let us *in* not out?"

"Remind me not to recommend your bedside manner." Lt Reed paused. "If your suspicion is correct then what happened to the others? The Captain, Ensign Sato, Dr Phlox and my two armoury officers Jenkins and Ross?"

Trip gave him a serious look. "I think they're still here."

Shock registered first on the Lieutenant's face then disbelief. "What? Commander, look around you. There's no one else here."

Trip just stared at him. "They lie." He said quietly.

"What?"

The Commander allowed his eyes to roam around the unbridled splendour. "They lie. This could all be another lie, Malcolm."

Lt Reed gave him a sour look, not at all amused. His voice dripping with sarcasm. "First this is a box then it isn't?"

"A box doesn't have to have four walls, a bottom and a lid."

The Lieutenant huffed. "Glad we got that cleared up then."

Trip looked at him, a patient expression on his face. He knew how it sounded. "Just go along with me for a moment, Mal."

"As if I have any choice." He mumbled drily.

"I think we have to explore this place--this 'space'--a little more imaginatively that we've been doin'. With our minds as well as our physical senses."

The Lieutenant could not believe what he was hearing. "Commander, that is all very well in theory but..."

"Just humour me, Lieutenant. Right now the only thing I trust is *you*. So unless you're one very advanced sarcastic British hologram I'm bettin' you're as real as I am." He cast a slow measured look around him, feeling a decided chill begin to seep through his bones. "Right now that's the only thing I *am* sure of."

"You're saying this whole thing might be some elaborate illusion? An illusion that can grow claws, reach out and cut us?"

"They're playin' with us, Mal, and I don't have a clue *what* this is."

For several minutes neither of the men spoke. They walked slowly, sticking close together, looking closely at everything. Only reaching out to tentatively touch with caution. They did not want a repeat of what had happened to Lt Reed. The Lieutenant could not help but feel out of his depth. Trip was right. "Nice box. Pretty box."

Trip shot a look at him. "Yeah, but it's still a box and we have to find the others. Have to find a way out and get back to Enterprise."

They were both startled by a strange disembodied voice. "That will not be possible."

They turned, twisted round but could not see anyone. Trip could not control his anger. "Show yourself!" He yelled.

There was no answer.

Lt Reed looked puzzled. "Why won't it be possible?"

To their surprise the voice responded. "Your ship has already left."

Commander Tucker had had just about enough. His lips peeled back in an angry snarl. "Lies!" He spat out.

The voice was fading now. Sounding almost amused at their predicament. "Enjoy your *box*..."


	7. Suspicions

Travis Mayweather was tired. He had spent several hours in the gym before showering off and getting ready for bed. Quite why he felt so edgy he could not say. He would be glad to get to the edge of the Expanse even though it meant taking on the MACOs. He knew he should feel relieved, grateful, comforted even that they would have help on their dangerous mission but for some reason felt they would be safer without them. Damn if Lt Reed's reservations were not rubbing off on him. He smiled slightly, his natural good humour too buoyant to be submerged for long.

The chime on his doorbell surprised him. Who could be calling this late at night? Only one person came to mind. It seemed that Hoshi was as unsettled as he was. With a smile of welcome bowing his lips he opened his door only to be struck dumb by the sight of an agitated Vulcan on his doorstep.

"S...sub-Commander? What can I do for you?"

Fortunately T'Pol ignored his stunned surprise and stepped in to his quarters as calmly as if she visited him at this time of night on a regular basis. To the Ensign's knowledge this was the first time she had ever visited him in his quarters and he began to feel curiosity overtake his feeling of alarm.

"Ensign, I apologise for calling so late."

He nodded and swallowed slowly. Waiting until his door has hissed closed. "How can I help you?"

She was pleased he did not try to make 'small talk' as the Commander called it. This was going to be difficult enough as it was. "Ensign, I wish to discuss something with you. Do you remember the automated repair station?"

The surprise and shock momentarily robbed him of his senses. With an effort he forced himself to concentrate. Nothing could have been further from his mind at that moment but it was obviously important if it brought her here at this time of night. He spoke slowly, his voice careful, his eyes glued to hers looking for clues. He already knew that conversations with T'Pol could be like picking your way through a minefield. "Yes."

T'Pol bit back a sigh. "Ensign, what I am about to tell you must not leave this room, do you understand?"

He paled slightly then nodded. Oh God, what the hell was going on? He found himself sitting before he fell down, not sure his legs would keep him upright much longer. If he felt this unsteady before she even told him what was wrong he dreaded to think how he would react when he knew. "Yes, Sub-Commander."

The Vulcan watched him closely, noticed his skin was beginning to become clammy. "We never found out who created that service station. Never met the builders or discussed it with them."

"Forgive me, Sub-Commander, but I'm more than happy that we didn't. That place was so in advance of anything we have I don't know that we could have survived the encounter."

She watched him keenly. "Exactly."

He hesitated. "Exactly?"

"You were captured, linked up to it, and used as a source of raw material while a copy was left to mimick your duties aboard Enterprise."

His eyes widened. He could not quite prevent a shudder of dread going through him. "Are you saying you think the Zenari are the people that created that place?"

"I do not know but that is becoming a definite suspicion."

He looked alarmed then as he got a little more used to the idea interest sparked in wary eyes. He had not forgotten his own experiences aboard the repair station and how close he had come to never getting out of it alive. But for the curiosity of their Chief Engineer his adventures in space might have ended there. "What makes you think the two are connected, Sub-Commander?"

There was a long pause before she responded. "Ensign, do you trust me?"

He almost bolted at the words but his common sense was cautioning him not to panic. "Yes."

"Then please come with me. I believe you have a saying, a picture is worth a thousand words?"

Despite how tense he felt she made him smile. A Vulcan quoting Earth sayings was something to be savoured. "Yes, we do."

In silence they walked down the corridor, took an elevator and made their way to Commander Tucker's floor. Travis was surprised when he realised where they were going but held his tongue. He knew the two officers often worked closely together, perhaps the pair of them had come up with this idea between them? But if they had why had it been the Sub-Commander who came to get him and not the Commander?

***

The Zenari aide was getting a little anxious though he hid it well. His voice was calm as he sought to caution the Ambassador without offending him or insulting his position in the hierachy.

"Excellency, we must stop. The Denobulan is dying."

He felt rather than heard the Ambassador's amusement. "Be assured, Kentak, he is not dying. He is merely going into respiratory hiatus."

"What is that?"

"Denobulans can lower their body temperatures. Slow the beat of their hearts inducing a coma like state."

The aide was baffled. "For what purpose, excellency?"

The Arms Master, Ran Tok, stirred and took a step towards them. Answering for the Ambassador. "They call it hibernation."

"And this does not harm them?"

The Ambassador was watching Dr Phlox, his skin clammy and seeming to exude a thin clear liquid. Not conscious but definitely breathing. After a fashion. "No, it is apparently a necessary retreat. I had our scientists research his species most thoroughly before examining the spy."

"He is not dying then, excellency?" Repeated his aide a little uncertainly.

The Ambassador inclined his head slightly then reached out to touch the weeping flesh, the forearm feeling tacky and unpleasant. He managed not to recoil too violently. "No." He mused. "He is running away."

Kentak did not state that the physician was not capable of moving let alone running anywhere. He wondered if the Ambassador had asked him to attend so that he could witness the manner of his death. He felt a stir of disapproval in his mind at the direction of his thoughts and bowed deeply to hide his shame. "Forgive me, excellency. I thought that as a spy once his usefulness had been exhausted you would surely extinquish his life. I did not mean to imply criticism."

"We will keep him alive while his shade is on their ship." The Ambassador paused. Little sparks of light flickering as the folds of his heavy robe shifted. After a moment he settled and stilled again. "The Chief Engineer's shade is non responsive. This is not acceptable.

"No, excellency."

The Ambassador turned to his Arms Master. "What of the Armoury Officer?"

"Lt Reed? His shade is not compromised, excellency."

"And the Vulcan?"

They looked at each other and the silence stretched. Ah. The Vulcan. Worlds coaslesced into existence and died in the space between their spoken words. Not even distance dulled the exquisite nature of their subtle art. The Ambassador could sense her with ease but was careful to go no further. Not even to the reading of thoughts. The spoken word he could home in on and absorb without risk. If she detected the merest hint of a mental intrusion it could upset the balance of desires planned. Unfolding was a delicate operation for the new species. Peeling back the Human genome would be delicate work. Interfacing the skills and attributes they found and deemed useful would sweeten the concourse of their deliberations. Before they were ready to take that step he wanted to sate some of their desires. Fulfill unspoken wishes and monitor the results the better to merge them to their will. Let his consciousness in part play out the reactions and taste the sensations of relief, pleasure, and ultimately--awe. The Zenari were not Gods but power was seductive and at times they enjoyed submersing themselves in the exotic expectations of others. Manipulating the events around them while rewriting the physical parameters of those who populated this sacred space no matter how temporarily. The Humans could hardly complain at their manipulation. This after all was Zenari territory. Even the Vulcans knew better than to cross that line.

He moved closer to the Denobulan. Admired in a somewhat abstracted fashion the intricate pierced carvings that held the spy in thrall. Allowed his impassive eyes to follow the convoluted contours that bound his flesh. So far he was still intact. The Ambassador gave a silent call and his chief scientist Vot rose in a column of charged particles before taking his form alongside the Arms Master so that he could face the Ambassador. He bowed low. "You wish me to wake him, excellency?"

"No, Vot. I wish you map the connections between his internal organs then probe the brain stem and monitor him closely."

"For what are you looking?"

Only Vot would dare to ask such a thing, his whole attention being on providing whatever the Ambassador requested of him. For that reason he could ask questions the others would never dare consider. "This state of hibernation interests me. Explore the limits of his senses while in this state."

"All of them, excellency?"

A partial incline of his head indicated agreement. Vot looked at the Denobulan for a moment, sent tendrils of energy pulsing through comatose veins. Drove his thoughts thereafter, slithering and sliding between folds of flesh, winding around cells and exploring tissues and muscles as if all these things lay upon the surface of his skin not within the confines of a physical body. Vot looked up suddenly, a flicker of something like surprise relieving the glossy black depths of eyes that never blinked or showed emotion. "He is aware of us."

Ambassador Chot absorbed that fact. "The spy is deep."

"His body is capable of extensive compartmentalisation, excellency."

A long pause. "Indeed."

The chief scientific officer continued to probe with his mind, using his own energy to open up parts of the body that resisted intrusion. Interesting. How had the Denobulan been able to do that? He should not have been able to detect him at this level. Curious. He found the nervous system and flicked a thought back to his Ambassador. Wanting to know how invasive to make this.

"I want to know everything Vot including the real reason he is with these Humans."

"As you wish. Even though he is in self inclined statis he is resisting me, excellency. Too weak to keep me out but a surprising ability given his status. This will hurt him."

"Pain is not my concern. If he chooses to resist he must accept the consequences."

Vot inclined his head then asked one last question. "Do you wish him to emerge whole or in part?"

"Whole." A pause. "And alive. His body *will* betray him. Cell by cell will give up their secrets to us but I want to hear the spy confess when this is over." He paused and glanced at Kentak. "How unlike the Human Captain he is. We will not even need to scar his memories."

Vot ignored the rest of the conversation even when it went sub-vocal. His energy was probing deeper now. The Denobulan body twitched. He closed off all other thoughts and concentrated. If the scapel of his mind slipped the spy could be killed prematurely by the shock and if that happened the Ambassador would find himself needing a new chief scientific officer. He was not yet ready to join the sundered souls of his ancestors. Not when there was work still to be done.

***

Captain Archer commed Trip for the third time. Still no response. The water polo game was just the distraction he needed to calm down his ruffled and rattled nerves but he did not want to watch it on his own. He looked down at Porthos. "Where do you suppose he is, Porthos?"

The Captain smiled and bent down to fuss his dog then straightened with a sigh. "Okay, looks like we'll have to com Engineering and drag his sorry ass out of there." He leaned on the wall com to activate it.

"Engineering. Lt Hess."

"Lieutenant, is Commander Tucker there?"

"No, sir."

The Captain frowned. "No?"

"His shift ended several hours ago, Captain. Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head even though the Lieutenant could not see him. Somehow he did not think Lt Hess would appreciate being dragged out of Engineering to watch water polo. "Uh, no thank you Lieutenant. Archer out."

He was just straightening up when Sub-Commander T'Pol and Ensign Mayweather turned the corner walking towards him. Now *that* was odd. "Sub-Commander, Ensign? What's going on?"

Was that a flicker of warning in the Sub-Commander's eye as she looked at Travis? Nah, he was getting paranoid. The Expanse had that effect. The Vulcan kept walking when Travis came to halt several feet short of Commander Tucker's quarters. She stopped right in front of the Captain, taking in his casual clothing, the damp sweat shirt indicating he had been running. His smelly quadruped no doubt slobbering saliva along the corridors as they went. As distasteful an image as this provided T'Pol was relieved. This meant that this was indeed Captain Archer. "Captain, I need to speak to you."

His eyebrows rose, his look of boredom vanished in a heartbeat. Water polo all but forgotten now. "Of course, Sub-Commander."

"May I suggest your ready room?"

Surprised he tried not to show his reaction. "Okay, may I ask what this is about?"

She gave him a look, a slow brow rising in caution.

"Oh, okay." He belatedly remembered that Travis was still in the corridor. Did not think it odd at the time that he had not simply kept walking leaving his senior officers to their conversation. "I'll see you later, Travis. If you see the Commander tell him I have that water polo game he was wanting to see."

"Yes, sir."

Sub-Commander T'Pol took up a brisk pace almost whisking the Captain off down the corridor. He glanced across at her. "Is everything alright, Sub-Commander?"

"Why do you ask?"

He paused a second, not wanting to rub her up the wrong way. He seemed to have a knack for doing that lately though he did not know why. "You just seem a little tense."

Her look gave nothing away then they were at the elevator and all pretence at conversation stopped. In silence they stepped inside and did not speak again until they were in his ready room, the door hissing shut behind them as if to hermetically seal them in. When T'Pol finished speaking he stared at her in stunned shock. She had to be kidding? "Sub-Commander, that automated repair station is light years away and why would you even think it had any connection to the Zenari? I know you don't like them and..."

The Sub-Commander had started pacing. Her patience fragmentary at best though she struggled to hide the fact and appear outwardly calm. It did not help that images of a tramatised Commander were undermining her ability to remain detached and unaffected. "Captain, this has nothing to do with my personal feelings about the Zenari and everything to do with protecting this ship and crew from harm."

He looked at her seriously, taking in her slightly flushed face, the tightness around her eyes, the way she seemed on edge and ready to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. Come to think of it she could do that without any provocation at all. He wondered how dangerous this made his Science Officer but the thought was fleeting. She was worried and anything that could produce this state of agitation in a Vulcan was not to be ignored. He took a deep breath then urged her to take a seat. Only when she had done so did he sit down, hands folded on the table, leaning forward on his elbows as he watched the complex contours of her face for the slightest indication as to the thoughts she hid so well.

"Very well, Sub-Commander. Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that your suspicion is correct how does this tie in with the Zenari and what does it have to do with members of my Away Team?"

"I believe Captain, that not all the Away Team returned..."

***

They had no idea how long they had been in the crystal chamber. Odd that it did not echo, that sound seemed to get swallowed up almost as effectively as space. For such a huge place it had properties that were quite unique. Lt Reed found himself itemising them inside his head, no longer looking for a way out. Though he did not say so he had accepted that there was no visible way out. He watched the Commander going over every inch of the walls and doors again and again, his sensitive hands feeling the carved surfaces, his fingertips exploring every little crevice for a hidden pressure switch. It frustrated him to watch the continued unrelenting search.

"Commander, why don't you bloody admit that we're trapped in here?"

He looked up in surprise at the outburst, his hands slowing but not stopping. The Lieutenant idly wondered if he even knew how to stop. Was it adrenaline, fear or unrelenting determination that was driving the engineer? "Malcolm, there has to be a way out."

"What if the only way to get out is if someone on the outside lets us out?"

Trip's lips compressed. He was so tired but he could not give up, couldn't Malcolm see how wrong that would be? It would be like rolling over and waiting to die. Something flickered in the Armoury Officer's eyes and he walked over to where the Chief Engineer was kneeling by one wall. The apology was in his eyes and in every line of his body. He was not angry at Trip. "I'm sorry, I need my ass kicking it's just that I'm so bloody frustrated."

Trip rubbed his eyes wearily. "Me too but what else can we do?"

Before Malcolm could answer a strange strangled wailing sound assaulted their ears. Both men stiffened and listened, trying to work out where the sound was coming from. Malcolm had his phaser out not that either of them thought there would be anything to see that he could blast to smithereens but Trip got a odd kind of comfort out of pretending it would make a difference. They stepped back towards the centre of the vast room, heads turning slowly, seeing nothing. The sound repeated. Less volume now but more like a cry than a wail. They looked at each other, both thinking the same thing and reluctant to voice it. Suddenly Malcolm stepped back. The movement drew Trip's eye to him.

"What's up?"

"Aside from being trapped in an ornate tomb big enough to dwarf the Taj Mahal?"

"The what?"

"It was an elaborate mausoleum."

"Cheerful soul, aren't ya?"

Malcolm was about to say something when he yelped and jumped back. Thoroughly alarmed now, the Commander was looking right and left, his posture poised for attack but still seeing nothing. "What the hell's the matter with ya?"

The Lieutenant stepped back and looked at the floor. Puzzled, Trip copied him and noticed several red spots on the polished crystal. As they stared another red spot landed inches from Malcolm. He took another step back and more spots appeared, some bigger than others. Slowly Lt Reed raised his head and stared with horror at his friend. Trip felt his mouth go dry with fear.

"Oh... my... God!"

"What is it, Malcolm?"

"It's blood."

Trip wished he had not asked but there was nothing he could do to wipe that information from his mind. He did not even dare to wonder whose. Not sure his heart could take the answer. The only thing he knew for certain was that it was not T'Pol's. Thank God Vulcan's had green blood.

Lt Reed was staring down again, his eyes growing even wider. "I don't believe this."

"What? What don't ya believe Malcolm?"

He looked up again, his expression stricken as he met the Commander's eyes. "Whoever it is, is bleeding in morse code."

Commander Tucker was stunned. He stared uncomprehending at the spots of blood, aware that even as he watched other spots were adding to the gruesome pattern forming at their feet. "Ya have got to be kiddin' me?"

His friend shook his head, no colour in his face now. He resisted the urge to be sick. "I assure you, Commander, humour is the furthest thing from my mind."

The Chief Engineer looked up slowly. The intricate ceiling at least forty feet above their heads. "But that means..."

Malcolm nodded. "Yes. Whoever this is, is trapped." He pointed above their heads. "Up there."

For a moment neither spoke then the silence began to become oppressive, alleviated only by the quiet drip drip drip of falling blood. Trip swallowed slowly and peered up once more. "How the hell are we gonna get up there?"

"Maybe they have some equivalent to a high tech pulley system?"

The Commander looked at him in disbelief. "For what?"

He indicated the intricate friezes that decorated the high vaulted ceiling. There were dozens upon dozens of them. "I assume they must need to clean them occasionally or take them down to replace or repair them."

Trip shook his head. "Mal..."

"Well? Do you have a better idea, Commander?"

A heavy silence fell. Trip's shoulders sagged in defeat. He could not look at Malcolm. "No, an' at least you're thinkin' Malcolm." He paused and looked around him, ten times wearier than he had been a minute before. He could not seem to drag his eyes away from the bright splashes of crimson. "What does it say?"

"Pardon?"

Trip nodded to the floor. "What does it say? Ya said it was morse code."

Lt Reed swallowed painfully, his voice hoarse and hushed. "S.O.S."

For a moment they did not speak, each contemplating what that meant. One of the Away Team was injured, losing blood, and trying frantically to call for help. Trip tried not to follow the dark procession of thoughts that were haunting him. The mental image of a badly wounded and dying Captain or an equally injured communications officer using the last of her skills in a desperate bid to get rescued. He bit back the threat of tears and decided to look for a way to help. Nothing else mattered.

"C'mon, let's check an' see if we can find any controls and lower the friezes."

"And if we can't?"

The Commander looked at him and gritted his teeth in determination. "Then I hope ya have a head for heights!"


	8. The Box

He stared. There was little else he could do. The state of Commander Tucker's quarters was a mess. The Sub-Commander had not overstated her case. He knew that as soon as she could extricate herself from her duties she would come back to speak to him at greater length. Suddenly the impossible sounding story she had told him made sense. He felt sick to his stomach. How had it been possible for the Zenari to replicate their personnel so easily? How did it tie in with the automated space station? What were the Zenari up to? Surely species this advanced would have no reason to interfere with other species in this way? Or was he looking at this from the wrong perspective? He remembered an old Earth saying. 'Just because you can do something does not mean that you should'.

Much as he did not want the clean up detail he could understand why the sub-Commander could not ask anyone else. Did she suspect the rest of the Away Team of being copies? He sighed and made a mental note of what supplies he would need. He left with care and returned less than thirty minutes later with a body bag, a protective disposable suit and extra strength cleaning fluids. Quickly he put the suit on and fastened it, taking the time to quickly check all the seals and fit the thin but durable gloves to the connections at the wrists. Then, trying to resist the urge to throw up, he set about the painful and distressing task of picking up the body parts strewn around the Commander's quarters. He quailed when he located a section of the head with an eye still staring out of one half of it. Unable to stop the bile from rising he stumbled into the head, unsealed his collapsible helmet and hood, and promptly threw up. He kept heaving until will power alone drove him upright again. Splashing cold water into his face helped a little but a nameless terror gripped his soul. He hoped and prayed that T'Pol had a plan to rescue their missing crew and as he steeled himself to get back to his grim duty he promised himself that he would take great pleasure in sending each and every Zenarian straight to hell.

***

Captain Jonathan Archer was stunned. He had no words for the shock that went through him. The Vulcan First Officer just looked at him, no expression on her face yet still managing to somehow convey deep concern. If those words had come from any other mouth he would have laughed and sent the speaker packing to the funny farm. But this was Sub-Commander T'Pol and she did not crack jokes. The Captain felt the need for a breath of fresh air. Something cool and sharp to kick start his senses and convince him this was not a nightmare. "Sub-Commander, are you telling me members of my crew are not who they appear to be?"

She arched a slow brow. "That is precisely what I am saying, Captain."

"Forgive me if I find that rather hard to believe. I would have noticed something if any of my personnel had been switched."

The Sub-Commander gave him a subtle look that made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"How do you know this?"

She hesitated. How far could she take him into her confidence? He was after all the Captain. This was his ship, his crew. He had a right to know all the ugly facts she could unveil. Yet his inclusion was a risk even at this level of contact. "I discovered that the Commander Tucker who returned from the surface with you is not Human. I suspect the same to be true of Lt Reed."

He frowned as another thought occurred to him. "How do you know I'm not one of them? I could be fooling you right now."

"That is not possible."

"Oh? You sound very sure sub-Commander."

"You have a very distinct body odour, Captain. I noticed the simulacrum of Commander Tucker had no odour."

"And that's how you knew it wasn't Trip?"

"On the contrary, I did not suspect until he started to act out of character."

"I didn't notice anything."

"The differences were subtle and we were in his quarters. The close proximity aided my realisation that something was wrong."

Images flicked through the Captain's head. "That's what you and Travis were doing outside the Commander's quarters?"

"We needed to clean up. The remnants of the body need to be placed in cold storage before they degrade. They must remain in storage until we are able to examine the copy in more exacting detail."

The Captain went pale. "Body? Are you saying it's in... pieces?"

"Yes, Captain. When the copy realised I was suspicious he fought me. I was forced to render it inactive. I regret to say that some of the Commander's effects were damaged and will need to be replaced."

For several minutes the Captain was silent. He sat so still that T'Pol began to wonder whether she should have told him. After all, Commander Tucker was his friend. If he took the news this hard, how would he react on seeing the remains? "Sub-Commander, I want you to get a science team together and prepare to examine the body. We need as much information as we can glean. God knows how long we've got."

"Captain, there may be another problem."

He wanted to put his head in his hands and groan but he was the Captain. "What's that?"

"Dr Phlox may be a copy too."

"And let me guess. He's in sickbay so you can't use the facilities in the infirmary?"

She nodded. He shut his eyes and gave himself the dubious luxury of wishing he were anywhere but here right now. The sentiment reminded him of an old Chinese curse. 'May you live in interesting times'. If he ever found the man who had dreamt up that little saying he would cheerfully wring his neck. Only minutes ago he had been lamenting the fact that he was bored. God rip his tongue out, how he wished they could all be bored. That they would face nothing more unsettling that trying to decide on a new menu to put to chef. The thought of food reminded him of Trip. His friend and the most gifted warp specialist engineer he had ever met. He hoped and prayed he would see him again. That all his people would be recovered safe and sound but his heart misgave him. They were dealing with an enemy so technologically advanced that he had no idea where to start. Okay. So let's start with that.

He opened his eyes and fixed T'Pol with a sharp look. "Sub-Commander, your people met the Zenari almost 100 years ago. Now I don't care how classified that information is. I need you to tell me everything your people know about that first meeting and anything else they have learnt since then about the Zenari."

"Captain, I regret to tell you that that information is classified."

The Captain jumped to his feet, frustration and fear making him throw caution and manners to the wind. "Dammit T'Pol this is Trip we're talking about! Not to mention Malcolm and probably Dr Phlox too. Who knows what the hell is happening to them while we argue up here. This is *not* a discussion nor is it a request. I demand to know what happened in that first contact."

He was not sure but he thought the Vulcan had paled slightly. "I am as concerned for them as you are, Captain."

"Then help me, T'Pol. Please don't expect me to fight with my hands tied behind my back."

***

It was hard to think. Processing thoughts was a pain so intense it took all his efforts to keep an element of consciousness while in such a deep statis. The invasiveness of the chief scientific officer's intrusions were debilitating but the Zenari did not know everything about Denobulans. That was the only comfort he had.

"I know you can hear me, Denobulan." Whispered the scientist as he pressed deeper with his energy. Tendrils of dark light flickering along truncated nerve endings and making his muscles spasm. The reaction seemed to amuse his captor. Dr Phlox remained silent.

"I admit that I am curious. Fascinated even. The Ambassador is most impressed with you, spy. Your silence will not serve you for much longer. We are a patient species but not particularly tolerant when we are being deliberately resisted. You should reconsider your strategy. What good will you be to the Humans with your flesh flayed from your body and your nerves stripped out one by one? Or should we start with something more eloquent and impale your eyes on a filament of light?"

The doctor ignored the smooth diatribe. Instead he sent his senses deeper, opened up other parts of his psyche and continued to systematically gather information. Let the creature talk. His mind sharpened suddenly becoming aware that he was being watched. The real threat was not the invasion of his body but the subtle incursions into his mind while Vot distracted him. That he must resist beyond death. A dark shade rose and formed beside him, the shape coalescing into that of the Arms Master. The black oily eyes almost glittered with something he would define as a form of malice. "I can hear you thinking, spy."

Why did they insist on calling him a spy? A flicker of fear ran through him before he could stop himself. Vot picked up on it and seemed pleased. "The mind is starting to break down." He said in a flat calm passionless voice.

Dr Phlox felt fear. A deep unreasoning dread that was sweeping through him. He wanted to lash out, to yell, to call on his crew members for help but he could not. Any aid he attracted would have to be done in a subtle manner. He could afford to give nothing away. The stakes were higher than his life. The only protection he could give was his silence. If that broke the enemy would unleash an even bigger terror than the one that was waiting in the wings to annihilate a little known species called the Human Race. Better to die by torture than betray civilisations as yet unborn.

***

Hoshi was dreaming. Tossing and turning she could not settle but neither could she wake. She was in a dark place yet had the impression of something huge. A place so vast it dwarfed the imagination. Why she thought that she did not know. Voices echoed all around her yet each was separate and distinct. Her ears tuned in first to one then another and another and another. Each had a different tongue, and as she deciphered the language another voice would take over the conversation and she would start all over again. It was exciting. Challenging. Exhilerating. So why did she feel a growing sense of danger?

Carefully she tried to understand what they were saying, what was going on, but the voices kept changing and she was feeling an increasing sense of desperation as if there was not much time to figure it out. She had to hurry but why? Where was she going? What was going on? And why did the shadows of eternal darkness reveal nothing but the many faces of an elaborate black maze?

And why. Sweating and hyperventilating. Did she wake up screaming?

***

Lt Malcolm Reed was finding it hard to keep his temper. They had been trapped for almost thirty hours. Neither he nor Commander Tucker had any idea where the others were but they knew with sickening dread that at least one of their friends was injured. He looked at the Chief Engineer. Trip looked exhausted, his face haunted by the trail of blood they had watched drip from the high ceiling. It made him shudder just to think of it. Was there another room above this huge vaulted place? And how could they explain the pattern of blood? The rythym suggestive of morse code for Christ's sake. None of it made sense. It was like being trapped inside a warped version of a Hitchcock film only no Joseph Cotton was going to come bursting through the doors to release them. No drawling James Stewart was going to produce film footage to prove the guilt of their captors. No eleventh hour rescue was on its' way *in the nick of time*. No. This madness was for real. The blood was real. The fear building inside them that they were trapped with no way out was real.

He walked over to Commander Tucker and hunkered down next to where his friend sat on the floor, head bent, right hand on the wall as if it was holding the whole universe up. Lt Reed put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Commander? Trip? Are you alright?"

Trip looked up, his eyes a little glassy from staring at nothing for so long. "No, but then neither are you." He paused then continued speaking before Malcolm could respond. "We have to do this, Malcolm. Before I lose my nerve."

Lt Reed swallowed slowly and looked up. "You can't be serious?" He looked at Trip's face. "One slip and there's no second chance, Commander. If you die you'll never see your beloved warp engine again."

"That's it Malcolm, go an' cheer me up why don't ya?"

He fell silent for a moment, looked up again then gazed at his friend glumly. "It's a rotten idea you know."

"An' I suppose ya have a better one?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't. Look, maybe I should go? Enterprise needs her Chief Engineer."

Commander Tucker shook his head and got to his feet. "Uh huh, no ya don't Malcolm. We both know I got a better head for heights. Besides, you're only gonna need me when ya get there. This way we save two idiots fallin' to their deaths instead of one."

Lt Reed looked glum. "I don't want anyone to die."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You know what I mean, Commander. This is suicide."

Trip shoved his face close to Malcolm's, his concern pushing through the fierce mask betraying his fear that whoever needed them was running out of time. "This is a rescue mission, Lieutenant, and don't ya forget it."

Reluctantly Lt Reed nodded. "Understood Commander. Sorry, sir."

Trip nodded. "I should think so." Commander Tucker wished he had something to say to reassure the Armoury Officer but he could not think of a thing. Instead he told him to keep an eye out in case anybody came. If any Zenarians appeared he was to distract them and keep them away from this side of the chamber. Lt Reed nodded and watched him get ready to climb up the first wall frieze. They had examined every possible approach but there was no easy climb. It would be a long hard slog with only minimal handholds in the pierced friezes. Trip wished he had some rope with him but it was not exactly the type of thing you brought with you on a diplomatic mission. He was going to have a whole host of suggestions to give the Captain next time he suggested an Away Mission. Always supposing he survived this one.

Lt Reed had not prayed in a long long time. Watching Commander Tucker carefully inch his way up the first wall frieze he prayed, his heart in his mouth as he watched. *Please God don't let him fall. I'll never forgive you Mr Tucker if you fall and die*

"Hey Malcolm?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Drop that Commander bullshit."

"Okay--Trip."

"That's better, now move away. Ya stand there like that you'll tell anyone stickin' their nose round a door exactly where I've gone."

"I thought I'd better watch you to start with, make sure the climb goes alright."

"An' do what?"

Silence. Trip huffed to himself and shifted his weight as he looked for a better handhold.

"That's what I thought now move your ass to the other side of the room."

Lt Reed hesitated. "I don't think this is a good idea, Trip. I think you should come back down."

"An' I think you're distractin' me. Now go on, move. Keep your eyes and ears open an' keep lookin' for a way out."

"We've already been over this place at least a dozen times..."

"Then go over it another dozen! Whatever happened to not givin' up?"

He sighed, nodded then apologised and did as he was told. Trip knew how Malcolm felt but he could not let his own nerves show. He tried instead to think of the person trapped forty feet above his head and losing blood. What if that person was Hoshi? She must be going insane with panic and fear. Or maybe it was Jon, his life's blood ebbing away while he dithered and thought how dangerous the climb up would be. Well screw that. He wasn't about to sit on his fat behind while one of his friends bled to death. He inched steadily upwards. Wondered where the doctor was. Hoped whoever was in trouble could hold on long enough for Malcolm to get them both some help. That was a laugh. Who the hell was he kidding? Him and Malcolm were trapped in this glorified box, had been for hours, and he was making plans to get the injured person medical treatment. Knowing his luck they would both fall to their deaths. And he accused Malcolm of being a morbid son of a bitch.

He took a steadying breath and continued climbing. The sweat beading on his forehead as he concentrated, muscles bulging. The hours stretching, time a meaningless monotony of strained muscles, aching fingers and cramped hands. He tried to use his balance to relieve the weight on his hands and arms but the toeholds were so awkward, slotting the narrow toe of his shoes into pierced angular fretwork. The only good thing was the material the friezes were made of. It seemed like a kind of glassy marble, maybe even a form of crystal like the floors. Damned if he knew what the substance was but it was hard and bore his weight with ease for which he was grateful.

He did not look down so was unaware of how high he had climbed when he became aware of something. He froze and listened. There it was again. A soft snuffling sound. Was someone crying? The hope that he was close to his journey's end spurred him on. "Hoshi? Is that you?"

The sound stopped abruptly. He listened again. Nothing. Damn. Maybe he had frightened them by speaking too soon? Best climb some more, get closer. Then he should be able to find out what state they were in and take it from there. He redoubled his efforts, not attempting to speak again but saving his energy and breath for the climb. He was so weary but did not dare tarry. What seemed like hours later the top of his head brushed against something and he paused. Carefully he wound one arm around the side of the frieze he was climbing then reached his other hand tentatively to feel above his head. He was too shattered to look up, not sure he could do so without losing his balance. Whose damn crazy fool idea was this anyway? He felt another frieze, this one was horizontal. His heart thudded in his chest so loud he thought it would deafen him. Then a nasty thought occurred to him. What if the frieze on the ceiling had no breaks in it? How the hell was he going to get to whoever was trapped *above* it?

***

The orb glided through the silky expanse of space. The darkness parted before it then closed in after it. Distance meant nothing. Time was an artefact. Just another tool. One more construction of an uncaring universe. Another spoil of war.

***

Captain Archer had had enough. His patience stretched beyond breaking point. He glared at his First Officer. "I don't care about your tight lipped Vulcan paranoia. This is my crew we're talking about. Don't you have an ounce of feeling in that cold heart of yours?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol managed to hide the sting of his words. "I have feelings and emotions, Captain, and I am not without sorrow at the situation they find themselves in..."

"Them not us." Clipped the Captain barely biting back his anger.

T'Pol blinked, not comprehending the reason for his attitude.

"The situtuation *they* find themselves in. They not us." He paused, tight lipped, expression grim. "When you *defied* the Vulcan High Command, resigned your commission to come with us, why did you do that?"

"We have already had this conversation, Captain."

Captain Archer shook his head. Calmer now. "I don't believe we have. Why come with us, T'Pol?"

"To help you."

The Captain's voice dropped further. Quiet. Thoughtful. "Are you sure about that?"

T'Pol found herself blinking back her anger. Determined not to lose control, to block out the image of a certain Chief Engineer. "What are you suggesting?"

"Not suggesting anything T'pol but don't you think it's funny? The Vulcans won't enter the Expanse. Yet here you are defying all *logic* to do just that. For our sakes? Then we meet this highly technologically evolved species we've never even heard of who--surprise, surprise--is known to your people." He paused, watching her face intently. Noting that it appeared to have paled somewhat. "Yet the details of that first encounter is shrouded in secrecy. Even though this single contact occurred nearly a hundred years ago and ended in bloodshed you won't tell us why or what it was about." There was a longer pause. T'Pol said nothing. Sensing the Captain had not finished. "I have to wonder, T'Pol. Are the Zenari the *real* reason the Vulcans won't enter the Delphic Expanse?"

T'Pol stared at him. The seconds lengthened into agonisingly slow torturous minutes.

"What are you really doing here, T'Pol?" He asked softly, leaning forward on the situation room table so that he could peer into her solemn closed face. T'Pol did not so much as twitch a muscle. He tilted his head, his voice mild, his words driving long sharp daggers into her body as if seeking her heart. "Are you here to help us or take notes on how long it takes us to die?"


	9. Nothing Ventured

Travis was weary beyond words, the weight of sorrow in his soul almost more than he could bear. He stared at the now clean room. The body bag an ominous reminder in the corner. He could not bear to think about the contents. Shaking from reaction he sat on the floor and bowed his head, tears running silently down his cheeks. He was remembering so many times, happy occasions, when they had all been together. The Commander was one of his senior officers and he did respect his rank and abilities as Chief Engineer of Earth's first warp capable star ship. But he respected his gift of friendship more. The simulacrum had been so vivid, so life like, that it had been hard to accept that it was a mere copy. It also made him wonder about the others. He was so wrapped up in his grief that he did not hear the door open and close. Only vaguely did he become aware of a hand upon his shoulder. Nightmare images haunted him as he imagined the Commander getting up out of the bag, his body reforming, then coming to reassure him. *It's alright Travis, bad joke*

But it was no joke. He raised his head slowly, eyes reluctant to open stared for a moment in mute shock then fresh tears fell in silent relief. It was the Sub-Commander. She knelt in front of him and stared into his visor, her eyes making contact with his and giving him the strength he lacked. He was sobbing quietly. The Vulcan's words calm and soothing though afterwards he could not remember what she had said only that it had been the right thing. Somehow she had reached out and touched him. Shared his distress and shown him that there was a way forward. A way for all this not to be for nothing.

She helped him to his feet then guided him to a chair. "Ensign, listen to me. I have told the Captain."

He was not sure what to feel about that. On one level he was relieved and glad she had done so. On another he was worried that the Captain would over react. Over react. How the hell can you over react to something like this? Was it even possible? He was close to hysteria. Nervous laughter rising in his throat but trapped by the look in T'Pol's eyes. *Forgive me, Sub-Commander. Forgive me, Trip. I can't do this any more*

"Ensign, this has been a great shock."

*If you only knew*

"We must assume that Commander Tucker and the others are still down on that planet."

His eyes were confused blanks. "The Captain came back."

"Yes, Ensign. Captain Archer did indeed return unharmed."

"So did Hoshi."

"That is correct."

"I don't understand."

"I do not have the answers, Ensign. We may never know why the Zenari copied some members of the Away Team and not others. What was the criteria? Were they looking for specific attributes or was the selection random? A matter of the inidividuals concerned simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time as the Commander would say?"

Travis gave her an uncertain look, as if he wanted to say something but did not know how.

"You have a question, Ensign?"

"Um, yes Sub-Commander." He paused for so long that Sub-Commander T'Pol thought he had changed his mind. "I collected all the pieces like you said." He nodded awkwardly to the body bag over by the door. "They were so life-like." He broke off and shuddered. It took him a moment to steady himself again so that he could continue. "Was.... was my copy like that?"

She realised he was talking about their run in with the automated repair station some months ago. "The attention to detail is indeed astonishing, Ensign, but no they were not the same."

He frowned now. "I don't understand. I thought you said..."

Uncharacteristically she interrupted him. "They are alike in construction not in operation."

He blinked blankly at her.

"When you were copied Ensign your simulacrum was visually perfect, but you were more machine. Able to carry out simple commands but incapable of spontaneous acts beyond your programming. Unable to extend form and function as a living breathing counterpart would have done. You were what you needed to be, no more and no less. The Zenari had left the automatic repair station much as I believe humans left open cages with food inside for rodents."

"Mouse traps?" He could hardly believe his ears. "You're talking about mouse traps?"

She inclined her head then carried on talking. "This is theory only until the body can be examined under laboratory conditions, Ensign, but I suspect the reason Commander Tucker's copy was more interactive was because it was being guided by an intelligence."

Alarmed, Travis jumped up and took a step back, his eyes flicking over to the inert body bag as if afraid the contents would come back to life and throttle him. The Sub-Commander indicated for Travis to retake his seat. Though he wanted nothing more than to get out of there as quickly as possible he realised this was not a conversation they could take outside. He swallowed hard, sat down, and tried not to quake.

"The Zenari are *here*, Ensign." T'Pol explained quietly. Her voice calm and pratical. "I believe they have the ability to directly animate and motivate their creations through proximity thus making them much more deadly and effective than those created in absentia on the repair station."

Travis could not stop looking round him, his skin crawling, imagining their enemies creeping out of the air ducts, hiding in every nook and cranny, listening to every word that fell from their injudicious mouths. He could almost feel unseen eyes boring into him from a hundred hidden hidey-holes. He was feeling spooked good and proper. "Should... should we be having this conversation, Sub-Commander?"

"Yes, Ensign. The Zenari may be highly advanced, have tehnology centuries ahead of either ours or yours, but they are *not* omnipotent."

Travis now stared at her as if she were off her head. How could she say that after everything she had just told him?

"They are *not* Gods." She said simply. Her eyes never breaking contact with his.

Ensign Travis Mayweather blinked. Not Gods. Not ominipotent. Not all-powerful unbeatable aliens. He took a long deep breath and began to feel his humanity reassert itself. He even managed a tentative smile though it was fleeting. Only ruined a little by the fact that he was trembling so hard. "Then we can beat them?"

The Sub-Commander's look was as grim as it was determined. This was one battle they could not afford to lose. "We *will* beat them."

***

Weeping. Definitely someone in distress but they were so quiet. Almost secretive about it. Trip felt his heart lurch. Oh hell, that meant there must be Zenari close by. Whoever it was did not want to give away the fact that they were conscious. He lifted his head slightly, trying to peer up through the pierced fretwork to see where they were but he could make nothing out beyond the frieze but shadows. All the light was below him in the vast crystal chamber. He was tiring rapidly now. After hours of climbing, clinging to miniscule hand and foot holds, using his balance to stop himself toppling, every muscle in his body was screaming. He bit his lip and refused to think about that. Someone was in need of urgent help and they did not have the luxury of simply being tired or having aching muscles. He dipped his head slightly, the light in the chamber still bright and with a quality to it that defied his ability to work out what was creating it.

There were no windows to the outside world. No light panels, no obvious sources of artificial lighting. Yet the place was ablaze. Not with bright areas and shadow areas but equally illuminated throughout the huge chamber. Obviously the crystal floors, wall friezes and ceiling friezes aided and abetted the quality of light but it did not explain it. He shook the thought from his head, not able to embrace such distractions. He had to find a way UP. Carefully he explored above his head with one hand, the other wrapped around the wall frieze he was clinging so precariously to. It seemed as if all above him was one huge unbroken frieze. His heart began to falter, panic crowding the edge of his consciousness. He held back the threat of tears. He would not fail. There had to be a way and he would find it or die trying. Just then a slight noise froze him in place. He opened his mouth and stretched his ears, the better to listen without his breathing drowning out whatever he heard. There. A noise like another sniffle. More crying. Soft, hushed weeping. Hoshi? Jon? He could not tell, it was too quiet, too subtle. But it spurred him on.

He decided to take a chance. As far as he could reach and feel with one hand he could not find a break in the frieze above his head. This was getting him nowhere. He listened carefully for a few minutes to get his bearings. Once sure of the direction he took a few deep breaths then wriggled his fingers up into the frieze above his head until he got a firm handhold. He leaned away from the wall frieze to test whether it would bear his weight. *Here goes nothin'* He thought. Then cautiously swung away from the wall frieze and hung from his fingertips. The sudden addition of weight made him gasp but determination stopped him from immediately giving it up as an impossibility. He would do this. He had to cross the ceiling hand by painful hand until he found their crew member. What he would do if he ended up in the middle of the ceiling with no way up he did not consider. Everybody had to die sometime. Better to do so trying to help a friend than standing by while their enemies tortured them to death. Why was it that thought was not more comforting?

Far below him, Lt Reed was looking up with an expression of utter horror on his face. "Jesus Christ, Trip..." He murmured. Voice shocked and anguished but not calling out, aware that the slightest distraction could cause his friend to fall. From that height he was in no doubt it would kill him. "Stupid yank, is he trying to kill himself?"

He knew he was not. Knew his friend would have considered every other possibility before taking this suicidal option. Malcolm closed his eyes and began praying again, more fervently than ever. If anyone needed a guardian angel it was Commander Trip Tucker. No. Scratch that. He didn't need a bloody guardian angel, he needed a whole ruddy chorus of them. What the hell was he thinking?

Trip felt his mouth go dry. His fingers were aching, the bones in his knuckles cracking as his weight shifted from painful hand to painful hand as he slowly rocked his body to progress across the ceiling in the direction of the weeping. It stopped again but Trip did not dare to. Afraid that if he stopped he would sieze up then lose his grip as his fingers numbed and plunge to his death. Knowing his luck he would probably land on top of Malcolm and kill him too. He almost sniggered at the image forming inside his head but the black humour quickly crumbled away. Yards. He had progressed five yards and the ceiling area ahead of him was vast yet it could not be too much farther. The weeping was quiet but clearer now. He was getting closer. Not close enough to risk speaking though. He did not want to alert their enemies and put not only himself but the injured crew member in greater danger. He tried to swallow but his mouth was so dry. His heart thudding painfully in his chest, hands in danger of locking on him. He carefully extracted his right hand, swung a little further out and took another hand hold almost slipping completely as something wet undermined his grip.

"What that hell...?"

He quickly adjusted his grip to a dry section of the frieze and sucked in a hard shocked breath. Blood.

"Oh God, I've found ya. Can ya hear me? It's Trip."

At first he heard nothing. Even the weeping had stopped then slowly, a soft pained voiced etched words out of unadulterated pain. It hurt Trip's ears to hear them. "C...commander Tucker.... Go back."

Another shock. "Doc, is that you?"

"Yes... go back... can't help me. Trap..."

He was confused. "Trap? How the hell can it be a trap?"

"You don't understand. The Zenari are not what you think they are."

"Doc, don't mean to be rude but I can't hang on much longer. You're gonna have to tell me how the hell to get up from this frieze. Is there a break near by that I can make my way to and haul myself up?"

He heard a gurgling noise and flinched as his imagination slotted in a number of unsavoury pictures to explain the noise. After a couple of minutes the Doctor spoke again. "You are not yet detected, Commander. Go, go while you still can."

"Trip."

"What?"

"My name's Trip."

"You are a most stubborn individual... Trip."

"You're welcome. Now help me get up from here before I fall."

"Go back."

"Too far out. Never make it."

Trip heard something that sounded like some colourful swearing but not in any language he had ever heard before. Must be Denobulan. A short silence followed then Dr Phlox spoke again. "There is a break in the frieze. I cannot see you from my position but you sound to be approximately three feet to the left of where I am. Move towards the sound of my voice. In another two to three feet you will find the frieze gives way to a section of grill. It is ornate but functional. It does not hinge nor does it fasten like the grills on Enterprise." He had to pause to recover enough breath to continue. Trip forced himself not to interrupt. He could tell that this was hard enough on the doctor. "When you reach the grill, you must pass your hand right across the middle of it."

"Ya mean there's some kind'a sensor?"

"Exactly. The section will then slide aside to permit access."

"That's pretty neat."

Dr Phlox did not respond. Did not tell the Commander that he was fastened to another such grill and that it had even more inventive properties. Had the situation not been so dire he would never have informed the Commander of this route. But neither could he allow the Commander to fall to his death for trying to save him. The irony of his situation was not lost on him.

***

Captain Archer turned at the chime on his door. "Come in."

The door slid open to reveal Lt Reed. He had no idea what to make of Sub-Commander T'Pol's comments. Her assertion that Trip wasn't Trip. That Lt Reed and the doctor might be imposters. It was all so fantastic and yet he had rattlers stirring in his gut. He looked at the Lieutenant, wondered if he was the same Malcolm Reed he had taken on as his Armoury Officer. The same Malcolm Reed who had such exacting standards both of conduct and service. The same Malcolm Reed who was fiercely loyal, proud, an exemplary officer in every way and possessing of as sharp an intellect as anyone he had ever known. He gazed deep into those storm grey eyes looking for the man he had come to know and rely on. Hoping in those depths to recognise not just a member of his crew but a friend.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

Lt Reed drew himself up to attention, his clear gaze pinned on the Captain's. A tentative look of worry in his intelligent eyes. The sensitive face showing a brief flicker of concern. "I apologise for disturbing you Captain but I have been trying to locate Commander Tucker and I cannot find him. I was wondering if you might know where he is?"

The Captain raised his eyebrows. Well. That settled that. This was the real Lt Reed alright. A copy would hardly show concern for another crew member let alone bring any anomalies to the Captain's notice. He breathed a sigh of relief. "I haven't seen him either, Lieutenant. In fact, Sub-Commander T'Pol has come up with a very disturbing theory and to be honest with you I don't know if I believe it."

The Lieutenant's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Theory, sir?"

He nodded and moved round from behind his desk. "Yes. She seems to think that we were manipulated down on the planet."

"Manipulated? How?"

Captain Archer smiled slightly. It did sound pretty preposterous now he came to think about it. "I know it sounds ludicrous but the Sub-Commander thinks some of the Away Team never returned."

The surprise on Lt Reed's face was almost comical. "That's not possible, Captain. We all came back together."

"I know, I tried telling her that but she insisted that the Commander Tucker who returned with us was not Trip but a copy."

Lt Reed's mouth fell open. "A copy?"

The humour fled from the Captain's face. He looked worried now. "Yes. I would have laughed it right off but T'Pol says she went to see him in his quarters. As you know she had been helping the Commander's sleep disorder with neuro-pressure. When she went to see him she states he acted differently. They ended up in a fight and... Well, I know this is going to sound unlikely, but she killed him."

Lt Reed never broke eye contact, his words slow and deliberate as if wanting to make sure he was hearing his Captain correctly. "Are you saying that Sub-Commander T'Pol has *killed* Commander Tucker?"

"Yes. No. I mean, she killed the *copy* of Commander Tucker."

"Pardon my asking Captain, but how does she know she killed the copy?"

"Um, the body parts."

Lt Reed went completely pale. Concerned, Captain Archer brought a chair and made him sit down. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

It took a moment for the Lieutenant to find any words. "You saw the... body?"

The Captain shook his head. "No." He looked a little embarrassed. "To be honest with you I lost my temper. Accused her of working against us." He sighed heavily and looked very uncomfortable. "I don't know what got into me. Don't worry, I intend to apologise when I see her next but in the meantime we have to work out what to do."

The Armoury Officer was looking keenly at him. "Where's the Commander, sir?"

"Presumably still on the planet."

Lt Reed got to his feet. "Then we have to go back down there immediately and get him back."

The Captain smiled, relieved at his reaction but knew he had to sound a note of caution. "We will, Malcolm, I promise you but we have to be careful. If the Sub-Commander is right we are in way over our heads. Their technology alone is simply beyond us. We have no idea what they want with Trip and until we find out more about their agenda we could just be putting more of this crew in danger. Much as I want to go down there and get Commander Tucker back we have to play this smart."

"What do you have in mind, Captain? You know I will help any way that I can."

"I know that Lieutenant, in fact I was counting on it. But first I need to speak to Sub-Commander T'Pol. I have a feeling she holds the answers we need."

***

Ensign Hoshi Sato had a headache. It did not help that no matter what she did she could not sleep without having the most horrendous nightmares. Shadows stalked her dreams and sucked her energy. Howling madness pulled at her mind and dragged her into cul de sacs of the imagination that reeked with images so horrific it flailed her senses into a ragged mass of twisted nerves. Yet most of them she could not remember. Only the terror remained. Feeling like death warmed up she slipped into her sweat shirt top and bottoms and made her way to sickbay. It was quiet and only the dull hum of the lighting teased her ears. She sighed with pleasure at the quietude, grateful not to have the bat screeching and the numerous other unsavoury creatures chittering and squeaking in the background. But it was still early.

She found Dr Phlox sitting in a chair by the full body scanner. He was sitting facing the door, his eyes closed as if in sleep. She smiled and almost turned around to go back to her quarters, not wishing to disturb the doctor if he was still sleeping. She could always come back a little later. As if aware of her thoughts his eyes suddenly opened. Hoshi resisted the urge to jump. What was the matter with her? Since when did Dr Phlox make her so jumpy? As the doctor's eyes came into focus, the compound retinas almost glowing, his face broke out into a huge V shaped smile. Hoshi smiled nervously back.

"Ah, Ensign Sato. What seems to be the problem?"

***

It was not often that anyone managed to stun the Chef into silence but Sub-Commander T'Pol had managed it. Ensign Mayweather kept his mouth shut and waited. Chef looked from the Sub-Commander to the Ensign then back again, his expression showing disbelief and disapproval in equal measure.

"Sub-Commander, your proposal breaks every rule of health and safety not to mention the contamination of foodstuffs and materials for the use in food preparation."

"I am quite aware of that, Chef, and I take full responsiblity."

The Chef's lips compressed into an unimpressed line. "You misunderstand me, Sub-Commander. I was not about to endorse your request."

"We have no option but to commandeer one of your deep freezers."

He shook his head. "Impossible. I cannot allow it!"

"I could have the Captain order you to do so."

He crossed his arms not in the least intimidated by the Sub-Commander's rank or the threat of having the Captain breathing down his neck. This was his domain and no one was going to usurp his authority especially for such a dubious purpose as this. It was beyond unhygenic. It was totally unethical. The Sub-Commander took a moment to reconsider her strategy.

"I understand that you and Commander Tucker have an understanding?"

Chef's eyes narrowed.

"In exchange for which you create some of his dishes from home with more frequency that would be expected in the normal rotation of ship's menues."

"Your point, Sub-Commander?"

"The Commander is a friend of yours."

A statement not a question. The Chef eyed her suspiciously. "We have always got along very well, Sub-Commander, now I must insist you get to the point so that I may continue with my work."

Sub-Commander T'Pol sighed and for a moment looked so weary that the Chef felt his resolve weakening. "Chef, what I am going to tell you is in the strictest possible confidence. Can you assure me it will remain so?"

He considered her face for a long moment. "You can count on my silence."

She nodded then indicated to Ensign Mayweather to open the body bag. Alarmed, the Chef moved to stop him. "You can't open that in here!"

"Chef, you have already intimated in no uncertain terms that you will not allow us to place this material in the spare deep freeze until it can be treated in the appropriate manner. If you are unwilling to trust your First Officer then you leave me no alternative but to show you what is so important that we must take this unusual action."

The Chef looked uncertain. He stared down at the sealed bag. "Is there a body in there?" He asked quietly.

The Vulcan saw no reason to lie to him. "Yes."

He shut his eyes suddenly, recalling the Vulcan's words and questions. "Commander Tucker?"

Travis caught his breath but said nothing. After all, the Sub-Commander's selective questions did lead in that direction.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

Chef opened his eyes. A fiery quality in them she had not noticed before. "Do not prevaricate with me, Sub-Commander. Either the Commander is in that body bag or he isn't. Which is it?"

"There is a body inside this bag but it is not Commander Tucker. However, it does resemble him."

The Chef opened his mouth to ask another question then snapped it closed again. It occurred to him that it might be wiser if he did not know any more details. He glanced down at the bag and could not stop a shudder. "If you are going to use my facility I insist you put this bag inside a self sealing coffin. That will keep the contents airtight and minimise any risk of contamination before the body can freeze."

T'Pol nodded. It was an excellent suggestion and one she wished she had thought of. "That is acceptable. Thank you."


	10. Nothing Gained

Sweat was pouring off him. His hands, arms and shoulders ached so much he could cry but there was no way he could afford to give up now. It took a supreme effort of southern bloody mindedness to activate the damn sensor and when the grate began to slide back it almost knocked him clean off the ceiling frieze. Dizzy and close to panic he felt nothing but relief when a hand appeared out of thin air and caught his flailing arm hauling his exhausted body up through the opening. Only when he was lying gasping on the grating did he realise who had saved him. He blinked, stunned, the sweat stinging his eyes but not impairing his vision one iota. He stared in shock.

"Doc?"

The Denobulan looked dreadful. Although he was still in one piece his skin had a dull bluish tinge that looked anything but healthy. His face was puffy and wet and his movements were sluggish and awkward. He could not even begin to grasp where he had got the strength and agility to do what he had done. The doctor slowly opened swollen eyes, his pupils looked a mess the equal of his body. "Shouldn't have come..." He mumbled.

"Now ya tell me." Murmured the Commander in an effort to lighten the mood.

The doctor did not smile but flopped on to his back. His mouth open, his breathing laboured. Trip felt a rush of fear and somehow managed to drag himself along the grating to reach him.

"What they do to ya, doc?"

"Torture."

Trip had figured as much but it still chilled him to hear it. "How ya feel? Can you walk?"

Dr Phlox did not even attempt to turn his head to give him a disparaging look for that remark. "Can't stand, C'mmander let alone walk."

"Ya still managed to haul my ass up before I fell. Thanks."

The doctor mumbled something, his eyelids so heavy he could scarce keep them open. The Commander was feeling a little better now he had got his wind back. He managed to sit and began to check the doctor for injuries. He quickly established that the merest touch was agony. His concern mounted.

"Have to get ya outta here."

Dr Phlox shook his head slowly. The effort of doing so nearly draining him. It was almost as if he was drugged. "No. Can't save me. Go."

"Not gonna happen so save your breath."

The eyes opened through sheer force of will, the doctor turning his head so he could look at the Commander and make eye contact. Trip noticed a clear liquid was streaming from the man's eyes but sensed it was not tears. How he knew that he had no idea. "I'm not important, Commander. Go, while you still have time."

"There is no way in hell I'm leavin' ya to those bastards. I wanna know what they did to ya and if there's anythin' ya need me to do for ya before we look for a way outta here."

"They will never let me go."

Trip blinked, sure he had misheard. "Ya mean us."

"Go Commander."

"Trip."

"You must go, Trip. Warn the Captain."

"About...?"

The prompt went unanswered. Dr Phlox closed his eyes and seemed on the brink of passing out. Trip put a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. Afraid to let him pass out in case he could not rouse him again yet reluctant to cause the man any further pain. His driving force now was nearing panic. Every cell in his body screaming that they were running out of time. He was relieved to see the doctor's eyes open again.

"That was a neat trick with the blood."

Dr Phlox just stared at him.

"The thing with the morse code. Where the hell d'ya learn a thing like that?"

He did not answer. Trip was not sure whether he was simply incapable or chose to remain silent. In the end it became a moot point as the Commander felt the grating move beneath him. "What the hell...?"

He tried to brace himself but the sudden tilt turned the former ceiling into another verticle construct and without having time to locate a suitable handhold Trip felt himself falling rapidly down the grating towards the forty foot drop below. He cried out in alarm only just aware of another body flying passed him as they slid free of the grating and hit empty air.

Forty feet below them Lt Malcolm Reed looked up. He turned white as a sheet, a look of absolute horror on his face. "Oh shit!"

***

Ensign Hoshi Sato was shaking. It was not that the nightmare was particularly traumatic, horrific or even gory. It wasn't. It was the fact that it had been so *real*. Waking had been a herculean effort for her and that had left her frightened. Wondering what would have happened had she failed to wake. She lay there breathing heavily, the blood pulsing loudly in her ears, her fright abating only slowly as she recalled the dream. The masks removed as her tormentors revealed themselves. Was it real? Where had these images come from? Why was she having these dreams--no--nightmares? And what did it mean?

She lay there for almost an hour slowly reliving the dream. Only when she at last sat up did she realise she was still fully clothed and lying on top of her bed. What was going on? Her brow furrowed with anxiety then she remembered. Not the dream but the reality. She had gone to get something from Dr Phlox for her headache only what she had found had terrified the wits out of her. As memory came cascading back to her Hoshi threw back her head and screamed.

***

Ambassador Chot seemed amused, a definite lighter air attending him as he moved across the huge audience chamber and listened to his major domo update him. "You cushioned the fall?"

"Yes, excellency."

"Did they see your shade?"

"No, excellency."

"And the other?"

"He appears to be distressed, in shock."

"Then his mind is open?"

The two Zenari stared at each other.

"What did you read?"

"He thinks the Commander's back is broken."

"And the spy?"

"He has no further injuries, excellency. The Chief Engineer inadvertently broke his fall."

"Monitor the Lieutenant more closely. Harvest his thoughts but do not touch his mind directly. He is naturally untrusting, suspicious and wary. His duties mirror his nature."

"Yes, excellency. What of the others?"

"Let the Lieutenant tend them for now."

When Kentak had gone the Ambassador approached the dias and waited in silence. After a few moments a column of heavy air drifted down from the high vaulted ceiling, darkening in its' descent until it hovered on the crystal dias in deepest shadow. "Did you find the engineer's shade?"

"No, excellency. I found something more troubling."

"Speak."

"It was detected by the Vulcan and has been neutralised."

The Ambassador hid his surprise. They had always known it was a possibility but he had not expected Sub-Commander T'Pol to be so astute. They had underestimated the Vulcan. It must not be allowed to happen again. "Recover the body."

"Your pardon, excellency, but I cannot find it."

Something dark and fell sparked in the Ambassador's eyes. "I would know had it been destroyed. Find it!"

"Excellency, the Vulcan has done something with it. It is hidden from us."

For a long moment there was silence. "Go to the Captain. The time is almost upon us."

"Yes, excellency."

"It is time we demonstrated the full impact of their folly."

***

Lt Reed was almost beside himself. Commander Tucker lay at an unnatural angle on the floor, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Eyes glazed more with shock that with pain. Carefully he straightened his limbs and only received a low moan in response. "Trip? Trip, for God's sake say something!"

Trip blinked slowly, sighed then looked at his friend. "Ow?"

"Very bloody funny. You could have been killed. As it is you almost gave me a ruddy heart attack."

"Ya don't have a heart Malcolm."

The Armoury Officer was surprised how much the light hearted comment hurt. He blinked rapidly for a moment then got back to the serious business of assessing his injuries. "Just lie still, Commander, and tell me where it hurts."

There was silence. Lt Reed frowned at the Chief Engineer. Dr Phlox was lying unconscious but breathing next to him. How that little miracle was possible the Armoury Officer did not know but he was not about to question their good fortune.

"Commander? Trip?"

Trip wet his lips slowly. "I don't feel any pain, Malcolm."

"Nonsense, after a fall like that you must be in agony."

The Commander gave him a calm level look which frightened the Armoury Officer more than if he had been writhing in pain. "No, Malcolm. I don't feel a thing."

All the air seemed to huff out of the Lieutenant's body. If anything he went even paler than he already was. Quite a feat when he looked like parchment anyway. "Nothing?" He asked faintly.

"Not a twinge."

For a moment his friend was lost for words. Oh God, he was paralysed. He tried to stay positive, to not give in to the threat of depression. He scooted closer and put a hand on Trip's chest. "Do you feel that?" He asked quietly.

"No."

Lt Reed bit back the threat of tears. "Okay, I'm going to test your reflexes next."

"Mal..."

"Just bear with me and let me know if you feel anything."

"Mal..."

"I'll start with your right shoulder."

"Malcolm!"

He paused, swallowed hard and stared at Trip with frightened eyes.

"It's okay, Malcolm." Said Trip quietly. "There's nothing you can do. No one's fault."

His friend sniffed and blinked back tears. Where the bloody hell had they come from? "Don't you DARE give up, Commander!"

"Not givin' up just not foolin' myself either and ya need to do the same."

"Trip, we'll find a way..."

"Malcolm, stop it. We're both adults, we knew what we'd be gettin' into. I need ya to check on Phlox for me. It seems the bastards tortured him."

Malcolm was sitting on the floor between his two friends and for a moment Trip thought he was going to lose it. He had never seen the Brit so close to unravelling. "This was supposed to be such a marvellous sodding adventure." He sniffed. "So bleeding heroic, the first star ship from Earth to explore the bloody galaxy. Meet exotic alien lifeforms." He huffed darkly. "What a ruddy joke. We found aliens alright and most of them either want to blow us to kingdom come, mate with us--well," He broke off and gave Trip a sheepish look. "Mate with *you*..."

"Hey, that wasn't my fault!"

"...or rob us blind."

"Risa wasn't my fault either."

A smile almost made it to Lt Reed's face. "You do seem to have an inordinate number of mishaps, Commander. Maybe we should rename you 'Jonah'."

"The galaxy hates me."

"Oh, I rather think not."

"How'd'ya come to that mind dazzlin' conclusion?"

A half smile quirked up the side of Lt Reed's mouth. "You're still here aren't you?"

So intent on buoying each other up were the friends that they failed to notice a slight change in air pressure. The clear shade of the Zenari aide undetected as it settled behind Lt Reed. As the Armoury Officer leaned forward to reach Dr Phlox the Commander got a glimpse of something on the extreme edge of visibility flickering behind him. It was almost like a hint of smoke with something bright twinkling in its' depths. Some instinct set off every alarm bell in his head.

"Malcolm! Look out behind ya!"

Lt Reed looked at Trip in surprise. Something very heavy suddenly impacted on the Commander's lungs knocking all the breath out of him. He felt a darkness closing in on his brain. The struggle to stay conscious was almost beyond him. From very far away he heard a voice. Funny. Sounded kind of familiar only he could not place it. The voice was telling him to trust him. To hang on to him. Yeah. Funny man. How do you hang on to a voice? Yet he clung to it, a desperate man hanging on to a piece of straw to keep from drowning. Not even thinking about how flimsy a construct it was to keep him afloat. Funny how when all else fails and reason takes a hike instinct kicks in. His eyes were heavy, closing. His body shutting down. Lungs almost flattened now. Air a precious commodity he could no longer afford. *Hang on*, the voice yelled in quiet desperation. *Sorry. You'll have to do it for me*. Then darkness came and slammed shut the door that was being held open for him.

*** 

Captain Jonathan Archer glared at the Sub-Commander. He had asked her to see him in his ready room and now the two of them stood facing each other. The tension in the air was palpable. The Captain took a deep breath and tried to stay calm.

"I've spoke to Lt Reed and he is as alarmed as I am. We have to find Commander Tucker."

"Captain, you cannot trust the man you think is Lt Reed."

Anger flashed in the Captain's eyes. He slammed his right hand down on the table top to emphasis his point. "I am sick to the back teeth of your paranoid accusations, Sub-Commander! I've spoken to Lt Reed and can assure you he is the same man I took on board at the beginning of this mission."

"Captain..."

"No, enough! I'm not listening to any more of this nonsense. We have enough problems without inventing more." He paused briefly. "I would have thought your Vulcan logic would have precluded such flights of fancy, Sub-Commander."

She just stared at him, her face an expressionless blank. She buried the growing worry deep inside her. Glad now that she had not fully confided in the Captain. Things were even worse than she had suspected.

"Now, I'm going to ask you for the last time to tell me what happened between the Vulcans and the Zenari when they made first contact."

Sub-Commander T'Pol had known this moment would come. Had anticipated all the things she would say to protect the information. Now it seemed a pointless failsafe. The Zenari had made far more progress than she expected. The Captain's obdurate tunnel vision was playing right into their hands and that made her suspect something else. There was only one way to test her theory and the cost would be high. "Very well, Captain. I will tell you."

***

Ensign Travis Mayweather sat in the observation deck looking out at the stars. He felt as if he had wandered into an episode of the Outer Limits. He wanted to pinch himself and wake up but the depressing fact that it was real circumvented that nice little fantasy. He was so lost in his thoughts that he jumped when Hoshi came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. She snatched her hand back and looked immediately contrite. "Sorry, Travis."

He was about to tell her it was alright when he got a good look at her face and noticed she had been crying. "Hoshi? What is it, what's the matter?"

Tears welled up at the sound of concern in his voice. "I'm sorry, I'm probably over reacting."

Travis scooted up to make room for her and bade her sit. She sat down gratefully and Travis took her hands in his. "What happened?"

"I... I thought I was dreaming." She looked away briefly before continuing. "Thought I was imagining things."

"What things?"

"When we got back from Zeon I was so happy. So many new languages, such an interesting culture. I was in awe."

Ensign Mayweather nodded but did not say anything.

"Then I started getting these really bad headaches. I eventually went to see Dr Phlox." She did not notice that Travis was now holding his breath. Her eyes were widening with distress. He squeezed her hands gently in his and waited for her to explain. "It was awful Travis. At first he just sat up and grinned at me with that huge V-shaped smile of his then he opened his mouth..."

"It's alright Hoshi. Go on."

"I thought it was quiet in there."

He looked blankly at her. What did that have to do with...?

"When he opened his mouth I saw bits and pieces. Fur and bone and what looked like skin..." She shuddered. "Travis, it was the remains of his bat."

Travis looked shocked. "What?" She had to be mistaken. Dr Phlox loved that hideous creature. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. He seemed amused by my distress. Took great pleasure chewing down slowly and crunching on the bones so I heard every one of them break. When I tried to back out he caught hold of me and sat me on a chair. I noticed then that I could not see or hear any of his animals."

"You mean...?"

"I think he ate them all."

The Ensign made a face. "That's disgusting." Even though he had suspected Dr Phlox might be an imposter he had not expected to hear such graphic confirmation. "Then what happened?"

She looked sick. "He regurgitated it."

Travis paled.

"Everything he had eaten, Travis, it was horrible!"

"Why would he do that?"

Tears broke ranks and flowed down her cheeks. "That was when he started to feed it to me..."

***

Dr Phlox was in so much pain yet his peripheral senses remained sharp. Alert. He was aware of the Zenari presence shadowing the Armoury Officer and was surprised it had not infected the Lieutenant with its' shade to take over the human. He realised after a few moments that the Zenari wanted the human's mind uncontaminated for some reason. Why? They had shown no qualms in copying the three of them. Who knew what havoc their shades were causing back on Enterprise. He had to warn the Captain but how? The three of them were trapped. Part of the Zenari's vast unfolding plan. The humans were but a small part of a larger plot that covered both vast distances and time. How many species were being drawn into their nefarious web? He knew some of it but not all. Had spent years being trained, building the expertise he would need and the connections that would be so vital to carry out his duty. The Vulcans were indeed far more accomplished than their Human protegy would ever suspect. And that fact had protected their Human charges for so long.

He lowered his temperature slowly, bringing his breathing into a shallow murmur of inhalations that barely raised his diaphram. He was laying half on his side, his bloated body covered in something that looked like blue bruises. His puffed out face was slimey with the excretions that protected his loss of body temperature and prevented his skin from drying out in the Zenari atmosphere. His eyes were sore, his ears hurt yet he extended his senses even more. They were in dire straits especially the Commander. He knew it amused the Zenari to immobilise the Chief Engineer yet keep him conscious to witness what was to come. At least now that he had been rendered unconscious by Kentak's shade when he tried to warn Lt Reed his body could gain a little of the rest it so badly needed. Dr Phlox was afraid that luxury would be short lived. He concentrated on the Lieutenant. Felt the Zenari extending his hold on the Armoury Officer and tried to still the rage longing to erupt in the man's defence. These were good people and he was meant to protect them. Monitor their progress. Watch over them. But the Zenari were nothing if not inventive in their deadly arts.

Quiet. Still. Affecting a state of near hibernation he used his body's inactivity to free his mind still further embracing all the techniques and skills at his command. Reaching out tentatively to make contact with Lt Reed. The Englishman sat in stunned silence. The Zenari now exerting his shade over him, the Lieutenant resisting with the remnants of his will. Privately, Dr Phlox was impressed with him. The Lieutenant was no push over. The Zenari thus distracted, the doctor was able to insert his own consciousness on the periphery of the shade then--quickly before it could detect him and mount an adequate defence--he flooded the shade with his fractured consciousness using the disruptive thought patterns like sharp knives of the mind to cut and thrust and rent and tear apart the fabric of chaos that sought to contain and manipulate his friend. The scream was unearthly. It came from the shade but used Lt Reed's vocal chords to vent its' pain and fury. Dark light coalesced and crackled sending tremors through the crystal floor and making the walls quake. The doctor ignored any possibility of danger from the room collapsing. If this failed they were worse than dead. Better a tomb than an unending nightmare of doom.


	11. Extremis

Captain Archer stared at the Sub-Commander in disbelieving shock. She calmly watched his reaction and waited. His mouth worked once or twice before he could articulate the words he was having such trouble finding.

"Romulans?"

"I did warn you Captain that the Zenari do not terraform planets like other species. They terraform minds."

"You're saying that nearly a hundred years ago they tried to do that to the Vulcans that made first contact and the result was the sundering of the Vulcan race?"

"Those they managed to reach lost their devotion to Surak. Logic no longer was an integral part of the Vulcan mind set. Everything they had thought and believed had been undermined at a single manipulative stroke. The Captain of that vessel had enough presence of mind to retreat but the Zenari did not want to let go, to release their latest test subjects."

"That was why they opened fire?"

"It was a desperate battle, Captain. More at stake than you could possibly realise. They broke free and returned to the Vulcan homeworld to tell their story but at a price."

Captain Archer nodded slowly. "They brought back a ship full of dissidents."

"Some were more affected--altered--than others but in essence that is correct."

For a couple of minutes neither of them spoke. The Captain frowned. "I don't understand what the Zenari thought to gain from their interference."

"Remember those incidents? The disruptive pattern of seemingly random 'accidents' across space and time? Lt Reed said they had nothing in common, nothing to connect them to the Zenari. That is not exactly true."

The Captain raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"The one thing each incident had in common was that in each and every case the disruption was caused by mind manipulation. The fact that this was not common knowledge owed more to the reticence and paranoia of the times than any insidious attempt to cover it up. Taken in isolation no one understood what had happened."

"But you did. Somehow the Vulcans pieced it all together."

"As you would say, we had a vested interest."

"You were following the Zenari?"

She shook her head. "No, Captain. The Vulcan High Command considered the risk of further contamination too high. We withdrew. The area of first contact was forever regarded as off limits and we were forbidden to speak of it."

Realisation dawned. "That first contact happened here, didn't it? In the Delphic Expanse?"

T'Pol inclined her head.

The Captain pursed his lips. "I take it the manipulation could not be reversed?"

"Not without further damaging the minds involved. The Kohlinar was created. A voluntary method of mind wiping. It provided a safe way to remove what had been done before slowly rebuilding the psyche in a manner which would stabilise the Vulcan mindset and permit a return to normalacy."

"To logic?"

She inclined her head a second time. "Now perhaps you understand why loss of logic is such a disturbing thing to us?"

"Yes. It explains the hostility towards the 'Vulcans without logic'. An awakened fear of what had gone before. No wonder you cling to Surak."

"Vulcans do not cling, Captain."

Captain Archer resisted the urge to smile. "Of course. My apology Sub-Commander." He paused a moment. "What happens now?"

"Now we find a way to recover our missing crew members and leave this place as quickly as possible."

The Captain was about to agree when he hesitated. Had the Sub-Commander not been looking at him with the full focus of her attention she would have missed the subtle shadow that passed over his face. A subtle hardening of his features alerted her though she said nothing. Suddenly wary but striving to remain outwardly unaffected. "You say our people are still on Zeon. I have seen Lt Reed and Dr Phlox but where is Commander Tucker?"

"You saw copies, Captain."

His acceptance of the correction was smooth. Flawless. "Of course. Where is the copy of the Commander?"

"Have you tried Engineering?"

For a moment he simply looked at her, no emotion in his eyes. She was staggered by the level of control exhibited as she beheld the bland unfeeling face. Had she not suspected she would not have realised the truth and that would have placed not only herself but every other member of this crew in terrible danger. Even so she was careful not to openly lie to him. The Zenari were nothing if not subtle. While she could easily mask her emotions she could not risk an outright lie. T'Pol stood.

"How long Captain, until we rendezvous with the MACOs?"

He blinked and something shifted behind his eyes. "Hours at most."

T'Pol nodded. "What do you intend to do?"

"I think we'll do what Lt Reed suggested and pick them up then return to Zeon. Hopefully with the help of the MACOs we can get our people back and continue our mission."

"What about the copies on board the ship?"

"Do nothing for now, Sub-Commander. If you are right we don't want the Zenari realising we're on to them."

The Vulcan nodded as if acknowledging the wisdom of his plan. Yet she detected the glimmer of something alien lurking in the Captain's eyes. A coolness shivered through her torso but she resisted the urge to shudder with alarm and revulsion. She knew her enemy now. Suspicion slowly solidifying into fact in her mind. Why would they want to keep the original Captain in situ? Why not replace him as well? Ruminating on the seemingly unnecessary risk she realised something that chilled her even further. What if they were perpetuating this mummery not to fool the ship's crew but as a blinker for Starfleet and by extension the Vulcans? T'Pol decided to leave before she gave away her growing concern. Somewhere buried under the image he projected was Captain Jonathan Archer. As she stepped through the door and listened to it hiss shut behind her she wondered who or what had been staring out at her.

***

Lt Malcolm Reed was beside himself with worry. He could get no movement out of the Commander and Dr Phlox seemed to be reduced to a bag of pain-filled jelly. What the hell had those bastards done to him? And how was he going to get the three of them out of this ornate prison and back to Enterprise? As he looked at his friends he saw Trip try to wet his lips and moved closer. "Don't exert yourself, Commander."

"Have to get outta here."

He nodded back at him, keeping eye contact and trying not to move too much. "I know but right now I have no idea how to accomplish that. You can't move and neither can Dr Phlox though for different reasons. While I can move there is nowhere for me to go so if you have any ideas at all I am more than willing to listen."

Trip had difficulty swallowing. The Armoury Officer felt his heart lurch. Wondering if Trip's throat was swelling up and hoping he would not be destined to watch him slowly choke to death. But no. Trip managed to swallow and was speaking again. Thank God. It seemed he simply had a dry throat. "Sorry, Malcolm. Guess you were right after all."

Lt Reed frowned. "Right about what?"

"The control mechanism for the doors must be on the outside."

The attempt at humour however feeble made Malcolm want to cry. He patted Trip's shoulder clumsily oblivious to the fact that his friend could not feel his touch. The action as much to reassure himself as Trip. He glanced at the doctor. "How do you feel, Dr Phlox?"

"As if all my bones have been liquified."

The Lieutenant went pale. "Oh my God..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say they had been just that they feel as if they have."

He was unsure which was worse. Wanted nothing more than to bury his head in his hands and sob but he had to be strong. His friends were relying on him. That was a joke. As if he could do anything but commiserate about the hopelessness of their situation. Trip's voice shamed him out of his descent into doom and gloom.

"Don't give up, Malcolm. Remember, we're Starfleet's finest."

"I wish I had your optimism, Commander."

The Chief Engineer sighed. "Malcolm, can ya at least call me Trip?"

"I don't know why you persist with that ridiculous nickname."

"Humour me, okay? If I'm gonna die I'd rather have a smile on my face."

The Lieutenant stared at him in anguish then shook the mood off. "You're right, Trip. I apologise."

"Don't apologise Malcolm just don't go all starchy an' remote on me. I know we're in a bad spot but at least we're still alive, right? Now if we can only figure out how to contact Enterprise maybe we stand a chance of gettin' outta here."

He did not like to tell his friend that it was a forlorn hope. Seldom had he seen circumstances stacked so heavily against them. Not to mention the fact that the Zenari seemed able to alter the fashion of reality around them. He frowned as he ruminated. "Trip? What the hell happened?"

"Huh? What d'ya mean what happened? We fell."

"I know you fell but how?"

"I had climbed up through this grate in the ceilin'. Found the doc an' was thinkin' about how we were gonna get outta there when the gratin' and ceilin' frieze tipped forty five degrees and we both slid straight down. Nothin' to hang on to, not even a prayer."

"Exactly!"

Trip blinked. Confused. Had he missed something? "What are ya so excited about?"

Malcolm looked intently from Trip to Phlox and back again. "You should have died."

"Thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it like that but you and Dr Phlox should have died after falling so far."

"I cushioned the doc's fall, remember?"

The Lieutenant nodded thoughtfully. "Yes you did Trip but what cushioned yours?"

***

The inky black backdrop of space warped around the sphere, slowing the compression of its' passage into the arms of Sacred Space. Something shifted in the unrelieved seamless structure and it refined its' trajectory. Almost, space hummed around it whether in greeting or alarm was unclear. One by one the last of the stars winked out. The unrelieved darkness closing around it like an eyelid shutting.

***

Ran Tok moved his shade with practised ease and took a good look round the sleek Human vessel. Now clear his presence was invisible to mortal sight. Only when his shade became semi-solid would it be visible, like a smoky vapor or column of shadow. The disassociation was momentary. His merging with Captain Archer had enabled him not only to adjust their manipulation on his mind but also to read the Sub-Commander a little clearer. Still he could not tell whether she knew of his presence or not. Her responses seemed as logical and detached as ever but he sensed a quality of awareness that disturbed him. He did not follow the Vulcan when she left, not willing to risk detection when she was already teetering on the brink of suspicion. Instead he delved into the Captain's mind. Touched his very real concern for both his crew and ship. His almost panicky worry about the Xindi threat. The notion that he and his crew were all that stood between the Xindi and the total annihilation of the Human Race.

The Master at Arms savoured the richness of his fear. Carefully sifted through the Human mind for clues as to what made this species such a danger to the Xindi in the first place. Why they thought they could simply enter this Sacred Space and not pay any penalty. The arrogance and ignorance of the species was mind numbing. He decided it would be worth relaxing some of their control on the Captain to see what he would do next. Not enough to allow him to detect Ran Tok's shade but just enough to give the illusion of free will.

***

The low elongated groan roused him. At first he could not remember where he was then his vision blurred as he began to focus on something looming over him. Blinking he slowly recognised the worried face of Lt Reed. "Hey, Malcolm." He murmured.

Relief lit up his friend's face. "How do you feel?"

"Numb. Cold. How long I been out?"

"Four maybe five hours."

Trip raised his eyebrows then heard that moan again. He managed to turn his head. It was the only movement he had. Everything below the neck was like a foreign country and about as accessible to him. "Doc? Can ya hear me?"

The Denobulan was no longer a light shade of blue, the colour had darkened into a murky unhealthy looking bruise that covered all the visible skin on his bloated body. Trip tried not to imagine why. The man appeared to be in utter agony but trying desperately to hide it from them. It made him feel both humble and emotional. With an effort he tried to curb an excess of either.

"Doc, that's twice you've saved my life."

The doctor ignored his attempt to thank him. "You have to find a way back to the ship."

"Workin' on it, Doc, but we're kind'a between a rock an' a hard place right now."

Lt Reed shuffled over to Dr Phlox but was powerless to even know where to begin in helping him. His internal injuries had to be massive and he knew that the merest touch, no matter how gentle, would cause the physician great pain. Seldom had he felt so helpless or useless. "Is there anything I can do for you, doctor?"

"No, Lieutenant. Just get the Commander back to Enterprise."

"When we go," Said Trip emotionally. The words evenly spaced for clarity and impact. "We *all* go, doc."

"You don't understand..."

Lt Reed cut him off. "Trip's right."

"No," Persisted the doctor weakly. Trip and Malcolm stared at him and did not interrupt this time. "The Zenari aim to delay you here."

"Delay?" Said the Lieutenant in a baffled voice. "Don't you mean trap?"

"No. This construct is merely a means to prevent your leaving. It is not intended as a form of incarceration."

"Ya could'a fooled me."

He ignored Trip's comment and continued. "The Zenari intend to keep Enterprise and her crew here until the Xindi arrive."

Trip felt a roaring in his ears, a great rushing hurricane of emotions creating internal storms he could not master. His breath caught, his vision blurred with tears of anger and sorrow. Malcolm put a hand on his chest but the engineer could not feel it. Could not see the swift urgency of concern drifting in the stormy grey eyes that beheld him. "Take it easy, Trip."

"How can ya say that, Malcolm? Those bastards planned this an' we fell into the trap."

"No." Said Dr Phlox weakly. Both men turned their attention back to him. "Imagine the Expanse as a huge sticky spider's web. We are the ones who stepped into *their* parlour Commander."

"I don't understand. If that's true then how d'you know the Xindi are comin'?"

"Because these two species know each other well."

Lt Reed gave him a suspicious look. "How would you know that?"

"Denobulans have had dealings with the Zenari before."

Trip looked as if he had been sucker punched. "Yet ya never told the Cap'n?"

"I regret I was not at liberty to disclose that information."

"Christ, doc, ya sound like T'Pol! Just what the Sam Hill is goin' on?"

"Yes," Said Malcolm calmly. His intent gaze fixed firmly on the doctor. "I would like to know the answer to that question myself."

"I'm afraid I must disappoint you gentlemen yet again."

The Chief Engineer could not believe his ears. "Ya gotta be kiddin' me? We're trapped in this *not trap* waitin' for our mortal enemies to come and finish us off an' ya won't tell us what the hell's goin' on?"

"We are never alone."

Lt Reed homed in on that little snippet. "Not alone?"

"No." Whispered Dr Phlox. "I cannot speak and neither must you."

"What'll happen if we do?" Asked Trip with a trace of beligerence surfacing.

"You will be tortured and your life extended to accommodated that torture until not a cell of your body escapes unbruised."

The Commander paled even further. Nasty thoughts joining hands inside his head. "That what they did to ya?" He asked softly.

"It is."

"What did they think you knew?" Asked the Armoury Officer thoughtfully.

"It is not safe to talk."

"We aren't talkin'," Said Trip stubbornly, his voice soft. "We're listenin'."

Impossibly, a small smile quirked up the corners of the Denobulan's mouth. The Commander's persistent humour was something he had always liked about the southerner. "They call me a spy."

His answer surprised them both yet as if by mutual consent they made no comment. Not wanting to say anything that would cause the Denobulan to clam up again. Lives might well depend on what they could learn from him. Including their own.

"In our history, this species is both mysterious and frightening. It is not their advanced technology that terrifies but what they do with it. Their arts of manipulation have no equal."

"But what's their purpose? They must have some agenda?" Malcolm asked.

"They terraform minds."

Trip frowned. "Why? Surely they got everything they want already? An' we already know they're more advanced than we are."

"Imagine Trip if you could subvert each new species you encountered so that you could obtain whatever you wanted without having to fight a war. Manipulate the various sides in any conflict so that the outcome would leave your own species the dominant one in that area of space. Coerce others to your will without their even knowing it."

"Holy shit..."

"If they are capable of all that," Said Lt Reed slowly. "Then what chance do we have of escape letting alone stopping them?"

Dr Phlox looked at him, his expression deadly serious and not a hint of superiority in his voice. "You have me and the Sub-Commander."

They blinked. Trip looked puzzled. "What's this gotta do with T'Pol?"

"I have known the Sub-Commander for some years, Trip."

Shock robbed him of a snappy rejoiner. Lt Reed asked the obvious question. "How long?"

The Denobulan would have shrugged if he could have. "Nearly twenty years."

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm paused to catch his breath and exchanged a stunned look with Trip. "I know you don't want to talk about any of this but I'm afraid the time for secrecy is passed, don't you?"

***

Ensign Hoshi Sato had rarely been so shaken in her life. True, space terrified as well as fascinated her. The idea of meeting strange and exotic aliens was not nearly as comforting as listening to them through a com link then trying to piece together the mechanics of their language. Brain teasers she loved. Physical conflict of any kind simply made her sick to her stomach. Travis tried to convince her it did not make her a coward.

"We all have fears, Hoshi. It's a safety mechanism so don't go telling yourself that you are any less qualified to be out here than any of us because I just won't buy it and neither would the Captain."

"Yes, but if you'd seen Dr Phlox crunching those bones..." She shuddered and closed her eyes.

Travis put his arm around her and gave her a big warm hug. For a moment she lost herself in a feeling of intense safety and well being. There was something very comforting about being with the boomer. Travis was not sure how to word what he was going to say. Knew he needed to tread carefully. The Vulcan Sub-Commander had impressed on him the need to give as little information away as possible though why that should extend to Hoshi he did not know. He could tell she was no copy. He would do as T'Pol instructed but he would also be there for Hoshi. After all. What was happening to them was affecting everyone. "What do you want to do? Want me to walk you back to your quarters or go get something to eat? We've still got two hours until we're back on duty."

"I think I should see the Captain. Tell him what I saw."

The boomer was not sure whether that was such a good idea or not. If Dr Phlox was a copy as now seemed likely would telling the Captain put them in more danger or less? He was sure the Captain was the real Jonathan Archer but the Sub-Commander seemed particularly careful around him. As if they had to watch their step even with him. But if they didn't go to the Captain wasn't that just as bad? Surely if they just kept this to what Hoshi had seen in sickbay it would not endanger anything? Hoshi gave him a dig in the ribs and he looked down with a slightly sheepish look on his face. "Sorry, I was trying to imagine the doctor eating his bat then telling the Captain."

She pulled a face. She did not fancy the task either but what else could she do? "You think I should leave it?"

Travis shrugged, wanting to be honest with her. "I don't know. I don't know enough about Denobulans to know if this is something they might do or whether it's some kind of aberrant behaviour we should be worried about but I suppose it can't hurt to tell the Captain."

Hoshi beamed at him. "Come on, let's do it."

He hesitated. "You want me to go with you?"

She gave him a big grin. The kind that set her eyes alight with sparkling amusement. The kind she knew he could never resist.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol was in her quarters. She was deep in contemplation. Kneeling on a satin cushion and staring unseeing into the flame of a meditation candle. Incense burned and her breathing was light and even although she was deeply troubled. Her thoughts kept coming back to a certain irrepressible Chief Engineer. His laughing blue eyes gazing into hers with humour and trust. So many things she longed to tell him that now might never be shared. Something inside ached but she ignored it. Closing off the part of her that would keen if she examined it too closely. Her expression became harder. She reviewed everything gleaned so far and was glad to have the confidence of Ensign Mayweather. Her concern for the Captain though was growing stronger.

She decided to go deeper. Mind opening wider, breath changing and taking her below the surface trance she was now skirting. Her thoughts consigned to the waiting room of her mind while she delved into that rare and exotic wellspring all Vulcans shared from birth. Surak help her. Surak help them all.


	12. Hidden Agendas

The Chief Engineer stared at Dr Phlox. Mouth hanging open, a look of utter amazement on his face. Lt Reed recovered first. "Just how old are you?"

Impossibly the weakened doctor chuckled. Weary though he was it heartened Trip to hear it. "Let's just say myself and the Sub-Commander could have shared a creche."

"Okay," Said Trip slowly. "Then how old is T'Pol?"

The chuckle became a light laugh which tapered off into a fit of painful coughing. The Commander felt guilty being the cause of it but the Denobulan would not let him take the blame. "Relax, Commander."

"Trip."

"Trip. It wasn't your fault, I just forgot myself for a moment."

"I still can't believe ya spent 18 years studying for this moment."

"Not exactly *this* moment but certainly this contingency."

Lt Reed interrupted, his eyes bright. "Doctor, for what you say to have merit you had to have known the future actions of these people. Which means..."

"Enough to say you are on the right lines, Malcolm." Cut in Dr Phlox quickly.

The Lieutenant frowned then realised he was trying to prevent him saying too much. He nodded in understanding. Wished there were some way the three of them could speak more freely. A thought occurred to Trip. "How are you and the Sub-Commander supposed to help us?"

"Every ship needs a doctor and if I do say so myself you won't find another doctor so highly qualified."

Trip frowned, that was not what he meant and they all knew it. He sucked his bottom lip. "An' T'Pol?"

"A little logic goes a long way, Commander."

He was about to correct the Denobulan again about using his nickname when he caught the expression on his friend's face and nodded instead. He wondered if there was a hidden camera on them as well as a listening device. Wished he could find it and rip it the hell out so they could formulate a plan without being overheard. The doctor seemed to divine what he was thinking. "I am feeling exceptionally tired, gentlemen. Normally I would meditate with the Sub-Commander but she is not here. I cannot sleep properly without meditating."

Trip picked up on the hint. "Perhaps I can help ya?"

"That would be most appreciated, Trip."

Dr Phlox looked at Lt Reed. "Perhaps you would benefit also?"

Lt Reed nodded carefully. "Just tell me what to do."

The doctor directed them to breathe deeply, letting their breaths fall into natural sych while Lt Reed placed one hand on the top of Trip's head and the other lightly on the top of the doctor's.

"That's it, you're doing fine. Try to leave your worry and anxiety behind you. Clear your minds and breathe with me..."

They did and in short order found themselves quickly drifting into a very deep state of meditative trance. Dr Phlox carefully guided them and took them deeper and deeper until they reached what he called a *safe place*. The *inner sanctum*. They could not see, touch or taste anything and there was no sense of smell. But they could hear and that was all they needed.

*Now doc, what the hell is going on?*

*The reason myself and the Sub-Commander prepared for this day is because of what we found out while working within the Vulcan Science Directorate almost twenty years ago*

*Your pardon* Thought Lt Reed. *You were in the Vulcan Science Directorate?*

*Of course. Due to my expertise gained from my time spent on the Vulcan homeworld and the fact that I am both well travelled and conversant in many cultures, I was deemed to be an asset which would be most useful*

*In what way?*

*This is neither the time or the place to go into that, Lieutenant*

*Yeah Malcolm, don't get sidetracked--remember?*

*What can you tell us?*

*Sub-Commander T'Pol and certain other colleagues within the Directorate had long suspected the truth about time travel. We were faced with concrete proof in the most dramatic way. The information that coded source provided shook the pillars of Vulcan intelligence to the core but even faced with such evidence many Vulcans still would not believe it. The official denial has remained Vulcan policy to this very day*

*I don't understand* Said Trip. *Where's the logic in denyin' the truth?*

*It isn't a case of logic Trip but fear*

*Fear?*

*The majority of Vulcans went into denial for a reason. The truth was too bitter a pill to take. It would have turned Vulcan society on its' head and sent the homeworld into a state of panic*

*Why?*

*Because of the Romulan problem*

*Ya mean what happened at first contact?*

There was a long weighty pause. *No*

*No?*

*First contact was the current dilemna leading to your predicament*

*That doesn't make sense, doc. We have nothin' to do with what the Vulcans did nearly 100 years ago*

*Nevetheless the two incidents are connected*

*How?*

*The folding of the time line*

*Come again?*

*You have heard of superstring and the folding of space?*

*And that affects us how?*

*We are in the Delphic Expanse. What I referred to earlier as a kind of sticky cobweb. This cobweb has holes in it. It is not uniform and it has many peculiarities*

Lt Reed was getting an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. *What sort of peculiarities?*

*Suffice it to say that if it were possible to navigate we could master the intricacies of time travel and instantaneous bilocation*

*Are ya sayin' what I think you're sayin'?*

*Yes, Trip. Imagine having the ability to go anywhere in a split second simply by willing it to be so*

*That's impossible*

*That's what the Zenari have accomplished*

Lt Reed's thought sounded strained. *That's how they got to all those locations in time and space to create those disasters?*

*Yes. It may have looked random to an outsider but there was a very clear methodology*

*Which was?* Asked Trip.

*They were practising. Using species and settlements with no direct correlation to each other to experiment and perfect their future plans*

*So you're sayin' they screwed up the past in order to screw up the future?*

*Manipulate*

*That's what I said* he paused. *How does this help us now?*

*The Zenari are wary of Humans*

*Why? We're the new kids on the block an' it's not as if we have any tricks up our sleeves to dazzle the natives*

*It is not your tricks that concern them*

*No?*

*It is the application of your DNA*

*What about our DNA?* Asked a cautious Lt Reed.

*It has a profound application when in contact with certain other species*

*I don't follow*

*The Zenari want to keep those species apart*

*They want to isolate the Human Race because of our biological potential?*

*That is an excellent way of putting it, Lieutenant, and what better way to totally isolate Humanity than by wiping it out?*

*Holy shit! That's what this is all about isn't it?*

*Yes*

*I'm afraid I don't quite agree. If it were that simple we would already be dead*

Silence. Lt Reed tried again.

*Doctor? Is that or is that not so?*

*It is accurate as far as it goes* He agreed reluctantly.

*Well stop making us bleed for every word, doc, just spit it out*

*There is more than the Human Race at stake gentlemen*

***

Captain Jonathan Archer looked at the way Ensign Hoshi Sato was fidgetting. Her eyes flicking up to lock on his almost fearfully. Ensign Travis Mayweather stood next to her, a very visible and solid support mechanism. The Captain schooled his features into one of concern. "Ensign Sato, what's wrong?"

"Captain, I'm sorry to bother you. I know how busy you are and how crazy things have been..."

He cut her off. "Just tell me what it is. Maybe I can help?"

Ensign Sato breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a tentative smile. He nodded to encourage her to unburden herself. "It's Dr Phlox."

He frowned. "Dr Phlox?"

"Yes, sir. I know this may sound silly but I went down to sickbay to get something for a blinding headache when I saw the doctor..." She trailed off as a feeling of nausea assailed her. She closed her eyes and fought to retain her equillibrium. The Captain leaned forward in his chair.

"Ensign? Are you ill? Can I get you anything? A glass of water perhaps?"

She opened her eyes and shook her head carefully, feeling embarrassed for making such a fuss. "I'm sorry Captain it's just that when I saw the doctor he was.... he was...."

Her voice trailed off helplessly. "Go on, Ensign, he was what?"

She made a face. "Eating his bat."

The Captain stared at her. "What?"

"He was eating his bat. I know because he had his mouth open as he chewed, as if he wanted me to see the fur and hear the bones crack. It was horrible."

"I imagine it was." The Captain paused and stared at her for a moment. "What do you wish me to do?"

Now that it came to it she felt utterly foolish. "Nothing, sir, I just thought you should know."

"I am sure there must be a perfectly logical explanation, Ensign, and when I can think of it I'll tell you."

That produced a weak forced smile. She knew he was trying to cheer her up, make light of it, but it did not help. Hoshi got up. "Thank you for listening, sir."

"Was that all, Ensign?"

"Yes, Captain. To be honest it creeped me out. I needed to talk about it with someone."

"I'm glad you did. Do you want to lie down for a while?"

"No, sir, thank you sir. I already feel much better and me and Travis will be back on duty shortly."

"As long as you're sure?"

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

He watched them leave with a thoughtful expression on his face. His look lingered on Travis, something about the young man's demeanour bothering him. Once he was alone the shade disassociated from the Captain's body to contact the Ambassador. Captain Archer sat slumped in his seat, eyes closed, body too weary to stay awake without the alien stimulus of the shade. Ran Tok descended through the floors of Enterprise, his shade turned clear so as not to attract attention. Through the deep vaults of space he changed back into his cloudy column of darkness and drifted down through the ceiling of the Audience Chamber to take his place on the empty dias. Ambassador Chot was waiting. Eternally patient. As the column semi-solidified the Master at Arms bowed. "Ambassador."

"Ran Tok, you have news?"

"The Captain does not suspect but neither does he know what we seek. I could find no trace of the Commander's shade. The Vulcan must have distroyed it, excellency."

"Impossible!"

"There is something else. A small thing perhaps."

"Speak."

"There is an Ensign, Ensign Travis Mayweather. I could detect no detail from his thoughts but he seemed particularly alert and wary. He watched the Captain very closely."

"He suspects?"

"I do not know, excellency. It may simply be that he is not happy with his Captain but I sense it was something more."

"Then you must return and continue your surveillance."

"For how long, excellency?"

"Until we are able to give them what they want."

"And what of the others? The Human engineer managed to locate the Denobulan."

"Yes. It was interesting. I had not expected such a reckless rescue attempt. These Humans are both resourceful and detemined."

"They are foolish, excellency."

"Alone perhaps, but see how they make alliances which add to their strength. The spy has endured much for them and I do not think we will be able to break him. Such loyalty between different species is rare. Then there is the Vulcan."

"Is she the One, excellency?"

"We cannot be sure but her decision to remain with these Humans would point to it. We must however be sure."

"How can we do that, excellency?"

"We must find out her attachments."

"And if she has none?"

"Then she will not be missed." For a moment silence fell and neither broke it. Time passed unmarked. The Ambassador straightened a little. "Return. Monitor the Captain a little longer and observe the Vulcan. Do not touch her mind. We cannot afford to risk being detected."

"She may already know. It would explain why we cannot find the Commander's shade."

"Explain."

"I think she has hidden it, excellency."

"You have proof?"

"No."

"Find me the proof."

"Yes, excellency."

"Ran Tok?"

"Yes, excellency."

"What of the other Ensign? The linguist?"

"Ah, she apprehends fear easily, excellency. A pity for one so gifted to be so weak."

"How so?"

"It appears she observed the Denobulan's shade eating some of his creatures in the infirmary. The sight sickened and frightened her so much that she reported the matter to the Captain."

"Does she suspect?"

"No, excellency."

"You say she is weak?"

"Yes, excellency."

"Then if we cannot find what we want from the Denobulan and the Captain we will try the linguist. For one gifted in so many languages she must know the unspoken language that passes between species."

"Excellency?"

"The non-verbal language of the body, Ran Tok. The smalls signs and sounds that give away unconscious thought. Such observations could prove invaluable indicators of thought and intent."

"Do you wish her taken?"

"Not yet. Proceed as planned."

"Yes, excellency."

Ran Tok bowed low then as he straightened his shadow bled upwards like a smeared smudge and he rose up through the ceiling and out of sight. Making his silent way back to Enterprise. The tiny jolt when he re-entered the Captain's body enough to stir him. The Master at Arms bled some of his energy into the carbon based lifeform and stabilised him. The Captain stretched and yawned. Must have fallen asleep. Funny but he felt refreshed, renewed. Smiling slightly he got up and went to the washroom to freshen up then made his way on to the bridge. They should be close to the rendezvous point by now and he for one could not wait to take on the extra resources of the MACOs. The sooner they picked the marines up the sooner they could return to Zeon. Let the Zenari try to stop him then. There was no way he intended to leave this area of the Expanse without his missing crew members. No way he wanted to continue this mission without his best friend. As he stepped on to the bridge, Ensign Sato put her hand to her earpiece and turned to look back at him. A look of concern on her face.

"Yes, Ensign, what is it?"

"We're receiving a transmission, Captain."

Surprise lit his face. He glanced across at Sub-Commander T'Pol. He was wary now. The Human was slowly learning his place in the food chain. "What are they saying?"

Hoshi shook her head. "Hard to decipher, Captain. It's not any language I've heard before." She paused, tilted her head then suddenly the whole ship shook and shuddered hard.

Ensign Mayweather looked up in alarm. "We're under attack, sir!"

The Captain looked stern as he slipped quickly into his chair. "Any idea who's firing at us or why?"

Rostov was manning Lt Reed's tactical station. He looked up with an expression of horror on his face. "Captain, the configuration of the vessel matches the orb that attacked Earth!"

Captain Archer's head spun round sharply. "What?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol confirmed their worst fears. "Captain, we're being attacked by the Xindi!"


	13. All In The Mind

Commander Tucker was sleeping. He was sure he was yet there was a sudden piercing lucidity that left him questioning his own sanity. All was darkness but was that because his eyes were closed or because it was night? Then he remembered where he was. That damned crystal chamber. A place of eternal light surrounded by shadows. How crazy was that? He tried to move but had no sensation to suggest locomotion. This was nuts. How could he not feel anything? Then he remembered his fall and felt his heart sag. Oh hell, he was paralysed. A rising tide of panic threatened to overwhelm him then something warm and oddly alien touched his thoughts.

*Commander? Trip?*

*Who's that and what the hell are ya doin' in my head?*

*It's Dr Phlox*

*And? What are ya doin' in my head?*

*I never left*

He paused and tried to run that reply through his mind again to see if it made sense second time around. *Am I dreamin'?*

*No, Trip. Do you remember when I took you and Lt Reed into trance with me?*

Everything came flooding back. *Yeah*

*After I took you both within the inner sanctum or safe place, we talked for a while then you fell asleep*

Trip felt a flush of embarrassment. *Oh, um sorry about that*

*Nothin' to be sorry about, I was relieved. You needed the rest*

*What happens now?*

*Now we get out of here*

The Commander wanted to laugh only the humour of it was closer to tears. *You're delirious doc, no way we're gettin' outta here any time soon*

*Incorrect. There is a way but it involves an element of risk*

*If there's a way why didn't ya say anythin' before? Why let us get all depressed?*

*That was not my intention. While you have been asleep myself and Lt Reed have been formulating a plan*

*Ya have?* He paused. *Malcolm? Ya there?*

*He is not currently with us*

Panic reasserted itself with hobb nail boots on. *What happened? Where is he?*

*Calm yourself, Trip, he is not hurt*

*Then where is he?*

*I asked him to check the south doorway*

*What the hell for? They're all impossible to open from the inside*

*Precisely*

*Doc, you're givin' me a headache here. What do ya expect Malcolm to do?*

*He's already done it. I gave him a little help so he could over ride the system*

Trip was stunned. No way could he form a coherent thought through his shock.

*When the Lieutenant returns you must go with him. There won't be much time and movement will be painful. That is why I am telling you this. However much it hurts you have to remain silent*

*Hold on doc, you're comin' too aren't ya?*

*No. It will take all of the Lieutenant's time and energy to get you clear. Once outside and able to contact Enterprise you can come back for me*

*Uh uh, not goin' anywhere without ya doc*

*Do not be foolish, Trip. While your loyalty is endearing if somewhat misplaced in this instance your refusal to take this opportunity would condemn the three of us to die here. Is that what you want?*

*Ya know it's not but how can I leave ya?*

*You can and you must. You are the Chief Engineer of the first warp capable Earth starship. Captain Archer is going to need you as he has seldom needed you before. The success or failure of this mission may well rely on you, Commander. Sentiment will not only bury you, me and Lt Reed. It will bury Enterprise and her crew as well.*

*Ya don't know that*

*Ah, but I do*

*How...?*

*There is no time to argue. Bad enough if I should die or Lt Reed. Worse if you should be lost*

*That's not true, no one's any more important than anyone else*

*Except in this case*

Trip paused. *What is it you're not tellin' me doc?*

*You are part of the key. I didn't want to tell you but you need to know in case I don't make it out of here. You and the Sub-Commander must finish this."

*Ya mean all of us must finish this*

*I know what I said*

Longer pause. *Why can't ya just tell me?*

*You might act inappropriately*

The Commander laughed but it was more bitterness than humour. *Doc, we're stuck on an alien planet with the most twisted and gifted people ya could imagine and ya worried I might act inappropriately? What is it ya think me and T'Pol can do that no one else can?*

*You are the future*

*Still not understandin' what ya mean*

*Commander--Trip--I cannot risk tellin' you more. If this works it becomes redundant. If it fails it won't matter anyway.*

*Then why the hints? Or are ya just tryin' to drive me nuts?*

*I need to convince you to do what has to be done*

*Then level with me. I'm a big boy. Heck, I can even feed and dress myself*

He felt Dr Phlox sigh. That alone told him they had to be touching. Yet he had no sensation of anything tactile. *Let me make you a promise instead, Commander. If you do as I ask then I will explain everything in as much detail as you wish once we are back on Enterprise*

*I'm not leavin' ya behind, doc, an' that's final*

Just then another voice joined them. *I'm afraid you no longer have that option, Commander*

Trip felt a surge of pleasure. *Malcolm? That you?*

*Expecting someone else are we?*

*No, just relieved you're alright*

*I'm fine,* He said briskly. *Now this is going to hurt, Trip. Grit your teeth or do whatever you have to do, but don't make a sound*

*Huh?* Before he could question him further the pain hit. Had Dr Phlox and Malcolm not warned him he would have yelled out at the top of his lungs. As it was he clamped his teeth down so hard he drew blood from his bottom lip. The agony bringing him to the verge of passing out. He did in fact black out for a few moments then the pain returned with a bright burning vengence that filled his eyes with tears and made his heart flag. By the time he could breathe without hurting his lungs the bile was rising in his throat. He started to choke then was heaved unceremoniously on to his side. He was violently sick before mercifully passing out.

***

The ship lurched first to one side then the other, shuddering with each impact. Captain Archer felt a strange calm settle over the anxiety that was flooding through him. "Rostov, damage report?"

Rostov hesitated. The Captain dragged his eyes from the viewscreen to see why he had not answered. Rostov whet his lips and looked up, his expression baffled. He kept checking and rechecking his sensors. "Sir, I don't understand how this is possible..."

"How what is possible?" Snapped the Captain edgily.

"According to sensors we have sustained no damage."

The Captain blinked. Another salvo hit and Enterprise was once again violently rocked. Ensign Sato almost lost her seat. Travis looked at her pale face but was listening intently to every word Rostov said.

"Check again."

"Yes, sir." Rostov checked again. "We are recording no damage, Captain."

The Captain frowned then looked at Sub-Commander T'Pol. "Have we inflicted any damage on the Xindi ship?"

She shook her head. "No, Captain."

Just then Ensign Sato spoke, her voice sounding a little tremulous as well as surprised. "Sir! We are being hailed."

"I thought you said you couldn't translate the Xindi transmission?"

"It isn't the Xindi, sir."

"What?"

"Ambassador Chot wishes to speak urgently with you."

For a second no one moved. T'Pol was staring oddly at the Captain but he did not notice. "Put him through, Ensign."

There was a strange crackling sound over the com but to everyone's surprise no transmission came through on the audible link. Instead, while they watched with mouths agape, a dark column of shadow rose up through the deckplates of the bridge and coalesced in front of the Captain. Stunned he could not speak as the Zenari Ambassador took solid form. "Captain, you and your crew stand upon the brink of extinction!"

***

Lt Malcolm Reed was beside himself with worry. Dr Phlox had warned him about the Commander's condition but the deterioration was even more rapid that he had expected. Using the information from the Denobulan he had managed to get the south door open but the doctor had warned that it would only be for a short time. He quickly returned to his friends, had a short conversation with Dr Phlox, then dragged Trip as rapidly as he could across the crystal floor to the outside. Muted light caressed his sore eyes but the movement had been agony for his friend. He saw the trickle of blood run down Trip's chin where he had clamped down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from crying out with the pain. Malcolm felt terrible for hurting him but it was necessary. Any prolonged delay and it would be too late for the Commander. He had no idea how Dr Phlox knew how to get out of that place but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. In fact he was rapidly reappraising his opinion of the normally jocular Denobulan. To say the man impressed him was a massive understatement.

Trip was choking. Pushing all other thoughts and concerns aside, Malcolm rolled him onto his side and kept his airway clear while Trip was violently sick. He was alarmed to see him coughing up blood just before he lost consciousness. He cleaned Trip up as best he could then took his pulse. It was erratic but still strong. Looking around quickly he determined they needed to put some distance between themselves and the dome. Apologising softly to his friend, he dragged Trip over to a rocky outcropping and drew him only far enough to hide them both from view. "Christ Trip, you'd better bloody hang on."

To his relief the Commander started to come round. Malcolm patted his shoulder and laid him in the recovery position just to be on the safe side. Plenty of time to do more back on Enterprise but first he had to make sure it was safe to go back. Trip was trying to speak but Malcolm put a couple of fingers over his friend's mouth. "Sssh, no need to speak, my friend. Just get your breath back Trip."

The Commander wanted to ask him what the hell was going on. Why the doc had so many secrets and how the hell he had known how to get out of the crystal chamber. Instead he closed his eyes gratefully and took the opportunity to rest a moment. Malcolm was worried and trying hard not to show it. The Commander was in a bad way and in danger of going into shock. The doctor had given him some pointers and told him what to look for. He pressed his lips tightly together and closed his eyes. No idea how in hell this was supposed to work but Dr Phlox had been adamant that he must *not* under any circumstances use his communicator. It was plain daft as far as he was concerned but having gone through what they had already he was reluctant to discount the Denobulan's warning. The truth was he trusted the doctor and he trusted the Sub-Commander so when he had been instructed on what to do he had not uttered a single word of dissent.

Now it only remained for him to see if it would work.

***

The Captain was stunned at the Ambassador's words. "You want me to what?"

"Your quarrel is with the Xindi. Their anger is with your species. Therefore you should meet face to face. Is this not logical?"

The last comment was aimed at the Vulcan Sub-Commander but she gave no response. She was watching the Captain. He looked stunned but not as shocked as she would have expected. In fact he was a lot calmer than she was right now. She found the thought disturbing.

"How can I meet them when all they want to do is blast us out of the sky?"

"You misunderstand, Captain. We are in Sacred Space."

The Captain was about to shake his head when something stopped him. Knowledge leaked into his brain from he knew not where. Something stirred in his consciousness like a snake uncoiling. It was creepy but he could not seem to rouse himself to worry about it. That was odd. "What do you suggest, Ambassador?"

"Let me serve as your conduit."

Before anyone could react, the Ambassador faded then vanished. As he did so the Captain disappeared in a column of inky black smoke. Everyone on the bridge gasped except Sub-Commander T'Pol. She stared at the space where the Captain had been sitting but her mind was elsewhere. Distracted by other events which held her in thrall. Rostov looked at her with panic in his eyes, not even caring that he was on the edge of terrified. "Sub-Commander, they've taken the Captain!"

She did not tell him how redundant that comment was. Rather she just gave a distracted nod. Ensign Hoshi Sato looked alarmed then gave the Vulcan a harder look, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Sub-Commander, are you alright?"

T'Pol nodded, turned away from them to hide her face. Letting her words reassure them as best she could because she was in danger of giving too much away. "Ensign, closely monitor the Xindi ship. Rostov do not fire unless I say so."

Ensign Mayweather felt shivers go down his spine. "What are we going to do, Sub-Commander?"

Still not turning around to face them, she pretended to be absorbed in her console. "We will wait for contact from the Captain."

"But he may be in danger." Blurted Hoshi before she could stop herself.

Almost too quietly for them to hear, the Sub-Commander responded. "We are *all* in danger, Ensign."

Silence fell on the bridge. Each member of the crew anxiously scanning their sensors and holding their breath. The Sub-Commander quickly embraced the inner sanctum and had to steel herself not to outwardly react. Her breath changed subtly. Anxiety touched her soul. Gently she overcame the rush of fear and allowed her inner calm to ease the connection. Deepening it she reached out for him. Touched the ragged edge of his pain filled universe and flooded him with the echo of her presence in his mind. Anchoring him to her. His agony was muted now. She encouraged the increase of endomorphins in his system, carefully monitored his life signs and determined he was strong enough for contact. Lt Reed had done an admirable job. No less than she had come to expect of him. Her mind tentatively reached out to touch his. An emotion that had no equal in Human terms bathed his consciousness and relieved him of his fear. Wonder seeped back to lap her mind in uneven waves that coloured her mind with his presence.

*T'Pol? Is that you?*

*Yes, Commander*

*How the hell is this possible?*

*You are injured*

*There's just no foolin' ya, is there?*

*Your motor functions have been damaged*

*Yeah, can't feel anythin' below my neck*

*Then you cannot move your limbs?*

*Not even to give ya a wave*

*This is not funny, Commander*

*Not laughin', darlin', just tryin' to lighten things a little*

*Where are you?*

*Outside the dome with Malcolm. Hidin' in some rocks*

*And the doctor?*

She felt his pain and sorrow so keenly it felt like a knife in her mind. T'Pol resisted the urge to flinch knowing the biofeedback would reach the Commander and add to his pain. *He's still in the crystal chamber. Didn't wanna leave him but seems him an' Malcolm took the decision for me*

*Do not blame them. This is necessary*

*He's in a real bad way, T'Pol. Don't know if he's gonna make it*

*We will deal with that once you are safe*

She felt the bitterness of his laughter. *What is it with keepin' me safe? We're all in this together, T'Pol.*

*Relax if you can, Trip. It will make the journey less traumatic*

*Journey?* He sounded baffled.

The Sub-Commander said nothing further. Instead she sent a tight beamed signal to the transporter room where Lt Hess was waiting on standby. The Lieutenant did not know the details but had responded without question to the Sub-Commander's order less than two hours earlier. Without attempting any verbal exchange, Lt Hess noted the co-ordinates being sent to her station then carefully locked on and energised. To her immense satisfaction she watched as Lt Reed and Commander Tucker materialised on the transporter pads. Immediately she realised something was wrong and was about to com the Sub-Commander when further orders scrolled across her console ordering her to com silence. The reason given was the Xindi attack on the ship and the unexpected contact from the Zenari. Lt Hess darted from the control console and knelt beside Lt Reed and looked at the Chief Engineer.

Commander Tucker's eyes were closed, his breathing ragged. Lt Reed knelt beside his friend, his face the colour of parchment. The Armoury Officer looked at her, his voice steady and somehow grounding her so she was able to contain her panic. "Lieutenant, find Ensign Cutler and bring her here with a trauma team. We need to get the Commander to sickbay right away. Do not under any circumstances use the com channel, do you understand?"

She nodded, her eyes darting to Trip's unconscious form. "Is the Commander going to be alright?"

"Let's get him to sickbay and find out shall we?"


	14. Mixed Burdens

He felt as though he were moving through a wall of darkness that had a physical dimension, the folds of deep shadow clinging to his body and numbing his mind. Some instinct told him it took seconds even though it felt like the journey lasted a lifetime. It chilled and frightened him with the whole universe formless, immense and nothing solid beneath his feet. There was a brief feeling of vertigo and disorientation as the journey ended. He closed his eyes or thought he did. His next coherent thought was a sudden rush of panic as another deck solidified beneath him and he lurched forward to find himself on the bridge of an alien starship.

With a jolt he found himself looking into the malevolent eyes of a species he had never seen before. Exotic. Hideous. Oddly compelling in a terrifying sort of way. Captain Archer's breath came in staggered gasps as something far from human gripped his mind.

*Oh shit! Xindi*

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol took a moment to compose herself. Wanted to extend the link to reach out to Dr Phlox but knew it was too risky. He was still inside the complex and her detection would seal his fate. She turned and looked at the anxious faces of the bridge crew. Was only too aware of the tension gripping them following the abrupt loss of the Captain. All eyes fixed on her with almost religious zeal as if, with a wave of her hand, she could bring him back. The Sub-Commander managed to regain her control and spoke in a calm measured manner that actually steadied the creeping fear that was almost palpable from her Human colleagues. But what she told them was not what they were expecting to hear.

"Lt Reed has transported back to Enterprise with Commander Tucker."

Ensign Sato looked confused. She was not aware they had even left the ship. "Where have they been Sub-Commander?"

"They returned briefly to Zeon but while they were down there the Commander had an accident."

"An accident?" Hoshi echoed in a hollow voice.

T'Pol's face was expressionless. "Lt Reed suspects that the Commander may have broken his back."

Gasps. Looks of horror. Distress. Hoshi put her hand over her mouth. "What does Dr Phlox say?"

Something flickered in the Vulcan's eyes. So brief they could not catch it but it put Travis even more on the alert. She was careful not to mention that Dr Phlox was still on the planet surface especially as Hoshi thought she had seen him and had a conversation with him earlier in sickbay. It would raise questions she was not yet ready to answer. T'Pol stepped away from her console and stood by the railing. A stern expression on her face. "I will determine the conditon of the Commander and the situation down on the surface, during which time we are to observe strict com silence unless we are contacted by the Captain."

"But Sub-Commander, we want to know how the Commander is..." Said Hoshi anxiously.

"You will be notified when that has been established not before. In the meantime I need you to stay at your posts. Do not forget that the Zenari have superior technology. We do not know how much of our systems they are able to monitor."

Ensign Mayweather looked troubled. "How did the Commander break his back?"

A pulse twitched in the side of Sub-Commander T'Pol's jaw and Hoshi knew her iron control was not as complete as it appeared. "I believe the Lieutenant said the Commander fell from a ceiling. Apparently he cannot feel anything below his neck."

Stunned, no one spoke. Hoshi felt tears prick her eyes. In silence they watched the Vulcan leave the bridge. Even as the door hissed shut behind her no one spoke.

T'Pol went straight to sickbay. She arrived to find Ensign Cutler examining the prone Chief Engineer, an anxious and drained Armoury Officer hovering at her shoulder. He only looked up briefly as T'Pol entered. She gave him a nod and moved to stand on the other side of the biobed, her eyes dropping down to take in the Commander's pale and perspiring face. The Commander was unconscious but breathing.

"What happened, Lieutenant?"

He gave her the abreviated version so as not to say anything too sensitive in front of Ensign Cutler. He was also cautious about feeding any information to the Zenari just in case the sneaky little bastards were eavesdropping. T'Pol silently approved. The Armoury Officer was certainly an asset and she liked the way he did not panic but remained practical, constantly thinking of ways to improve their situation. Once the basics were imparted the Sub-Commander looked at Ensign Cutler. "Can you stabilise the Commander?"

"Yes, Sub-Commander. I need to do some more tests but I'll give him something to keep him out for a few hours. That way he can rest properly and I am less likely to hurt him manoeuvring him into the scanner." She paused and hesitated. "I thought Dr Phlox would be here?"

T'Pol took a moment to answer. "I am sure he will be here soon, in the meantime do as much as you can." She wished she could have a few moments alone with the Commander to reassure herself that he was going to be alright but there was no time. Instead she nodded curtly and turned to face the Lieutenant. "Lt Reed, if I could speak to you for a moment?"

"Yes, Sub-Commander."

She paused to reiterate that the com system was not to be used. As soon as Ensign Cutler had any information on the Commander's condition she was to send it to the Sub-Commander's work station. A little puzzled Liz Cutler nodded. Sub-Commander T'Pol was loathe to leave the Ensign alone in sickbay with the Commander even momentarily. Aware that simulacrums of both the doctor and Lt Reed were still wandering around the ship and wary of what they might do. It disturbed her that she had not seen either of the copies recently. Glancing at the Lieutenant she realised he picked up on her anxiety though not the cause. This was confirmed when he spoke, his voice crisp but even. "Sub-Commander? May I suggest a couple of my armoury officers come to sickbay in case the Ensign needs help in moving the Commander or requires any assitance?"

T'Pol nodded. "That would be acceptable, Lieutenant." However dark thoughts prevailed in her mind. If the copy of Dr Phlox or the Lieutenant showed up in sickbay before they got back the Commander could be in real danger but they could not speak here and she needed to warn the Armoury Officer about the dopplegangers. T'Pol did not know how long they had before the Captain was returned to them. That was, *if* the Captain was returned to them. Right now she was not sure of anything.

Lt Reed used Dr Phlox's work station to contact the Armoury and ordered Peterson and Jenkins to come directly to sickbay to assist Ensign Cutler if required and to ensure that the Commander was not disturbed until they got back. At the Sub-Commander's instruction they were told that no one was to be allowed in sickbay, even Dr Phlox, unless accompanied by the First Officer and they must maintain com silence. Ensign Cutler was unaware of the instructions as she was busy tending the Commander but the puzzled looks on the officers' faces only vanished when T'Pol stepped into view and reinforced their orders. They were told not to discuss their instructions with anyone and to come immediately. Once outside the sickbay doors, the Lieutenant dropped his voice and spoke in an urgent whisper. "What is going on, Sub-Commander?"

"It is complicated, Lieutenant. First let us ensure the Commander's safety. We still have to determine what has happened to the Captain."

He frowned at her. What an odd conversation. Why would the Commander be in danger on their own ship and why had she suddenly switched to concern about the Captain? He held his tongue, sensing a warning in her eyes. More confused now that he had been before. They only had a couple of minutes to wait then Peterson and Jenkins arrived. Sub-Commander T'Pol repeated their instructions and Lt Reed endorsed them. No explanations were given and the men immediately took up their post. T'Pol turned to the Lieutenant, gave him a brisk nod then made her way quickly to the ready room, an intrigued and concerned Armoury Officer at her side. They did not speak until they were inside the ready room. Lt Reed spun round to face her.

"Now, Sub-Commander, I think it's time you told me what this is all about."

She looked at him sternly, her outward expression calm, her eyes boring into him with the necessity to give nothing away that could be picked up by the enemy. "Lieutenant, you have been through a traumatic experience as has the Commander. You need to relax."

He was astounded. Relax? Before he could respond she resumed speaking. Her voice calm, soothing almost. She took a step nearer to him.

"We should meditate and calm down."

"With respect, Sub-Commander, I hardly think that meditation is going to help the doctor."

Her eyes were glued to his. "On the contrary, Lieutenant. Right now it is the only thing that can."

Stunned he allowed himself to be coaxed into sitting on the floor. He adopted a cross legged pose, copying the Sub-Commander. He thought she wanted to use him to contact Dr Phlox and that thought calmed him. He sat quietly and let her place her hand on the side of his face, her fingertips seeking out the contact points as she instructed him in his breathing technique. Bringing their breathing into synch and slowing down their heartbeats. He said nothing. Asked nothing. Knowing only that he had to trust the Sub-Commander. He was therefore surprised when she opened up to him and drew him into her consciousness and made no attempt to seek the doctor.

*I don't understand*

*Precisely why this is necessary. While you, the Commander and Dr Phlox have been trapped on Zeon the Zenari replaced all three of you with copies. Fortunately I was suspicious of the copy of Commander Tucker and ended up having to fight him. The copy was broken. Rendered inoperative but still dangerous*

*Dangerous? How?*

*The copies have no life of their own, Lieutenant. Do you remember what happened at the automated repair station?*

*As if I could bloody well forget. Oh, sorry about the language Sub-Commander*

She ignored his minor slip and his apology.

*Surely if you took the Commander's copy out of action that's the end of it*

*I wish it were that simple but these copies are nothing like the ones encountered then. The principle is the same but the copy is directly controlled by the Zenari*

A shock went through him. *What?*

*The Zenari are master manipulators. I have said it before Lieutenant and it bears repeating. This is not an idle phrase but an accurate description. Because of their proximity to us they do not need to create copies 'in absentia'. Automatons if you will, though highly sophisticated ones. What they can accomplish here is much more realistic because they can use part of their own energy and will to operate and drive them. Imagine if you will that each copy is like a shuttle. A fully equipped working vessel that lacks only for a pilot to operate it. They use their partial consciousness and energy, which they call a Shade, to manipulate the simulacrum. To act as the 'pilot'. Remove the Shade and the construct falls into inactivity. A puppet with its' strings cut*

*But on the repair station they didn't to do that. Why couldn't the copy still operate?*

*These are higher specification models, Lieutenant. More sophisticated and therefore more subtle*

A thought occurred to him. *What happened to the Shade when you took out the copy of Commander Tucker?*

T'Pol paused just a fraction. Enough to tell the Lieutenant just how worried she was. *I can not be sure. For this reason certain safeguards had to be set in place*

*Safeguards?*

*I hid the body*

Lt Reed sucked in a deep startled breath then set about calming himself again. *Bloody hell*

*It is my hope that the Shade is still trapped within the body*

*And if it isn't?*

*They know more than we can afford them to know*

*Which means?*

*We are out of time, Lieutenant. Whatever we are going to do we have to do now but there is a problem*

*Why am I not surprised?*

T'Pol waited for his mind to still. *There is still a copy of Dr Phlox and you on board Enterprise. I have not seen either for some time though Ensign Sato did see the copy of the doctor in sickbay some hours ago. I was relieved not to find him there when we brought the Commander in. Now I am equally concerned because he wasn't there*

*What do you mean?*

*I mean, Lieutenant, where are they?*

*Perhaps the Zenari took them back?*

*No. They are still here on Enterprise and we have to find them and eliminate them before they can do any damage. You, I and Ensign Mayweather are the only ones who know about the copies*

*You told Travis?*

*It seemed logical especially given his experiences aboard the automated station*

Lt Reed considered that and agreed.

*He is also an efficient ally* Added the Sub-Commander.

*Can we find some excuse to bring him off the bridge and help in the search?*

*That would not be a good idea, Lieutenant. Ensign Sato is disturbed enough after her experience with the false doctor. If Ensign Mayweather came with us there would be no one to steady the nerves of the bridge crew*

*Good point. What do we do now? Shouldn't we find a way to warn the rest of the crew?*

*No. How would we explain the duplicates? And if we did how could we ensure the crew could tell them apart? We cannot risk creating a ship-wide panic.*

That had not occurred to the Lieutenant. *A bit of a prickly problem. I suppose the Commander and I could always wear our com badges on the opposite side of our chests?*

She ignored his attempt at a little levity. *There is only one solution. We have to find the copies and find them NOW*

*Sub-Commander, we are dealing with a species that--according to your own description--can turn into vapor or columns of smoke. Pass through walls, ceilings and God knows what without batting an eyelid. A species so advanced we look like single cell organisms in comparrison. How do you suggest we find them if they don't want to be found?*

She raised a brow but he did not apologise for his curt tone. He was wound up tighter than a watch spring and right now good manners would have to play second fiddle to getting out of this nightmare alive. *There is only one reason I can think of for their illusiveness. I suspect all the copies are somehow attuned to one another. If that is so they will know that the copy of the Commander has been taken out of action*

*How does that help us find the others?*

*I believe they are looking for the body*

That did not make sense to the Lieutenant. *Why on Earth would they want to do that?*

*Because,* Explained the Vulcan slowly, starting to get tense again. *If I did trap the Shade within it they will want it back*

***

Dr Phlox was in pain but comforted that his friends had managed to get back to Enterprise. He hoped they would indulge in no more foolish heroics on his account. Bad enough that the Commander had taken that fall. He was torn. Wanting them to just leave and get as far away from the Expanse as they could and wanting them to stay so he could get back to them and help. His greatest comfort was knowing that Sub-Commander T'Pol was with them. Able to steer and inform them on what they would need to know to survive. But how much of the fantastic story could she impart and still be believed?

Another surge of deep pain flooded his senses. He sank his consciousness deeper. Withdrew from a world that pained him and was robbing him of rational thought. He had to stay functional even if that meant he could not remain conscious. In this deep state, the body was plunged into premature hibernation. All his bodily functions lowered and slowed down to adapt and conserve heat and energy. It was a relief to retreat and let his complex nature assist him, cushion him from waking harm, so that he could better marshall his beleagured defences for when he would need them again.

***

It felt like something out of a particularly surreal nightmare. These 'people', these Xindi, reminded him of science experiments gone wrong. Modern day Frankensteins but a whole lot smarter than anything that ever came out of the Hammer House of Horror. He briefly cursed Trip for making him watch all those old black and white movies then berated himself. He realised that one of the Xindi was talking to him though the voice did not seem to be coming from the creature addressing him. Ah. They must be using a translation device because he could understand them now. Belatedly he realised he was hearing them inside his own head. He realised now what that creepy sensation had been when his mind had been gripped and held in thrall. Knew instinctively he would not be able to shake it off until they released him.

"You are Captain Archer. A Human. From Earth."

The word Human was given an odd inflection which conveyed distaste and disgust. "Yes, I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the star ship Enterprise. What do you want from me?"

"Descendant of murderers. Despoiler of worlds. Spawn of eternal darkness and enmity. Galactic filth polluting everything you come into contact with..."

Startled and offended by the unjust diatribe the Captain bristled with indignation and interrupted. "That's not true!"

The Xindi Captain suddenly widened its' scaly eyes and a fell light seemed to quicken in his reptillian looking orbs. "Silence! You dare interrupt when lives hang in the balance of your foul breath?"

He bit his tongue. Angry, frustrated but also frightened that if did not tread carefully his friends would pay the price. It occurred to him they might pay the price anyway. Wasn't that what the Xindi wanted? To eliminate the whole of Mankind?

"You dare to come to this Sacred Space and make demands. Do you think we are the ill aspected waste of your lowest lifeforms? Our cities you will decimate. Our colonies destroy. Our waters vaporise. Our skies fill and choke with your poisons. This we know. THIS we have SEEN. Why then should you be spared?"

The Captain waited to be sure he was intended to reply before speaking. Not wishing to ignite the situation further and spin it out of control. "Please, I do not understand how you have seen this. We come in peace, we are explorers. Why would we want to destroy other races?"

"You are niave if you think such an argument will affect us."

"Why do you say we will destroy your race 400 years from now? How could you know such a thing when we do not?"

The dark eyes flared, hotter this time though the gravelly tone was milder. A contrast that made Captain Archer even warier. "We have SEEN."

"How?" He asked quietly.

For long moments no one spoke. Captain Archer hardly dared to draw breath. He felt as if the whole universe was balanced on a knife edge. "You would see what we have seen?" The hushed breath of the Xindi asked, a rough jagged rumble of vowels and constonants doing contortions to be translatable to the Human.

Captain Archer nodded. "Yes."

"Even though it will sear your soul with your treachery?"

"I have not done anything wrong. You on the other hand have attacked us. Tried to destroy my ship. Sent your weapons of hate to my homeworld and killed millions of innocent people."

"Innocent?" Roared the Xindi Captain in sudden rage. "How dare you seek to lay a blame you instigated. You will SEE. You will be taken to our future devastation so that you may understand. This I do in honour of our future dead so that your death in this time will mean something."

Before the Captain could say anything the sensation inside his head both tightened and broadened out as if a strong migraine was coming. Then he felt something, another consciousness, clothe his senses in darkness and wrap his spirit in a deep primal fear. He was unaware of the Xindi gathering around him. Not conscious of the Zenari shade dominating him and manipulating his mind to play the images they would make their gift. He trembled. His hands twitched, eyes closed. The Xindi Captain tapped his forehead, his tone grating on his reluctant ears. "Eyes, open. No hiding, Archer. See all, know all, then die."

***

Lt Reed was so stunned he could not form coherent thoughts. The Sub-Commander was patient. Knowing he needed to understand. It was critical if they were to succeed in this. She felt his mind regroup. *Dr Phlox says that he has known you for almost 20 years. It seemed hardly credible at the time...* His line of thought trailed off before being picked up again. *I realise how niave I've been. In fact I'm stunned that this was planned so long ago. How did you know?*

*The Vulcan High Command has determined that there is no such thing as time travel* She paused. *I have never said that I did not believe in it*

That shook him. *But you led us to believe...*

*You believed what you wanted to believe. I simply did not correct you*

*You still misled us*

*A necessary protection for your limited understanding*

He thought about that, oddly enough not offended by her words. *Are you saying you believe in time travel?*

He could almost feel the hint of a smile. *No. I do not believe in time travel. I know it is real*

"Are you saying you know how this will turn out?*

*No, Lieutenant. I have no precognitive abilities nor do I desire that encumberance to logic. We must go now. Other forces are gathering and there is so little time*

He felt a stab of panic. *What other forces?*

*Zenari and Xindi*

*That's bloody marvellous, Sub-Commander. How are we supposed to fight both of them?*

*We do not. I am breaking the connection now, when you open your eyes take a moment to find your equillibrium then follow me. Ask no more questions. Lives may fall in the space of further delay*

He understood. Placed total faith in her and came out of the trance state. He blinked a couple of times, watching her watching him. Assessing when he would be ready to rise. Judging the moment she rose in one fluid graceful motion that he momentarily envied. Quickly they left the ready room and he was surprised to find the Sub-Commander making her way towards the mess hall. Only her warning to ask no questions kept him silent. He followed her into the back of the dining room and threaded through the Chef's domain more than a little nervous. Zenari and Xindi were scary enough but neither species were half as terrifiying as an enraged Chef. They thankfully did not bump into him. T'Pol lead him beyond the kitchens, out through the store rooms to where the freezers stood. The cold already seeping into his slim frame Lt Reed was already shivering by the time they got to the farthest freezer. He already had an inkling of what they would find inside. Wanted to ask her if she was sure she wanted to do this but knew there really was no option.

T'Pol gave him a look then unlocked the freezer. As the heavy door was swung outward Lt Reed gasped. All the remaining colour drained out of the Sub-Commander's face. The body bag was unzipped but there was no sign of the broken body of the Commander's simulacrum. Instead the bag and the floor around it was covered in dark foul ashes and laying just inside the door with a trail of frozen blood down the side of his face was the Chef. Quickly they dragged him out and T'Pol shut the freezer door. Lt Reed dropped to his knees, surprised to find that the Chef still retained a fleeting warmth. There was a pulse, strong not thready which meant the Chef had only been left unconscious. Had they been a few more minutes in opening the freezer he would have died. The thought made him shudder more than the cold but the Sub-Commander's next words almost stopped his heart.

"The Shade is free, Lieutenant. We must get to sickbay as soon as possible."

He did not argue. Though he still did not understand everything he sensed time was running out. Between them they manhandled the Chef and managed to half carry and half drag him to sick bay. What they saw when they got there filled their hearts with utmost dread. The two armoury officers were lying in a pool of congealing blood outside the sickbay doors. Jenkins was dead but Peterson was simply unconscious though he had a nasty crack on his head. Hurrying inside they found Ensign Cutler out cold on the floor and no sign of Commander Tucker. "Oh my God," Said Lt Reed in a strangled voice. "They've taken Trip!"


	15. Worst Case Scenario

It was hard to believe what he was seeing. The planet was like none he had ever seen before. He recognised species of Xindi like the Captain who had addressed him but there were others forms, like variants or sub-species that were like yet unalike. Somehow he knew they were all one race, not so much by their look but their tongue. First he was shown the outward destruction. Huge primordial forests and swamps reduced to burnt wasteland. The water gone in a drought so sudden and fierce it not only cracked river beds and the deep places of their ocean but left a heat haze of dust over everything. He saw the bodies. Some burnt, some burst open with pressure. Flesh liquidised then vaporised. Many details flooded his mind not in images or words but in complete knowing. A sense completely beyond his Human ability. He was unaware that his mind was being manipulated to take some information directly into his brain to be embraced as fact. He blinked, visibly upset.

"I don't understand how we did this." He said in a hushed pained voice.

The next moment the scenes changed. He saw vibrant landscapes. The various sub-species living in their own colonies whether on land, in the sea or in the air. They met infrequently yet seemed to be able to live among each other with minimal friction. If only the peoples of Earth could do so as easily. Even with the end of War on Earth, there was still friction. Petty jealousies ran between nations as well as men. Removing borders did not remove the memory of them.

"Watch, witness, learn. Our death, your shame."

Then he saw it. Heart sickened by the sudden attack. Weapons unleashed that seemed to ripple through the planet surface increasing the devastation and annihilating everything in its' path. He wanted to weep, his mind struggling to grasp the idea that they were responsible for this.

"Why did we attack?" At the silence he was met with the Human turned his head and looked at the Xindi Captain. "Why?"

A kind of hiss echoed in his mind reinforcing the impression of the reptilian nature of his host. Captain Archer frowned. "My people would not attack--not like this--without a very good reason." He paused as if trying to choose his words with more care. "What happened to cause this?"

"We did nothing. Your people found us, decided they did not want to share space with us even though this was our homeworld. Our space not theirs. The attack was swift, brutal and final. We few are all that survived."

The Captain's mouth flapped open like a sail suddenly bereft of wind. He was flagging and he knew it.  
"You mean... all the other Xindi are... gone?"

"Not gone, dead. You destroyed our world."

"Even wiping out an entire planet I can't believe this is all that would be left."

"We do not care what you believe. You are the destroyer of worlds.

"Look," Said the Captain urgently, trying to keep his voice calm. "We should do something, stop this. You're showing me the future and even though it's hard to accept for you to even be *able* to show me that future that you can do so means there has to be some possibility of altering it."

The Xindi stared at him as if he were quite mad. "We make no deals with murderers."

"Not murderers."

"The solution is clear. You die. We live. The universe prevails."

"No, you don't understand. If we do this right all of us will live."

Suddenly the Xindi flexed his jaw. The reptilian eyes were wiped by two pairs of eyelids leaving the orbs glossy, dark and uncompromising. He hissed at Captain Archer. "Why would we want to do that, Human? We have the means to end you and secure our future. You are a pestilence, a desease that can be snuffed out before it contaminates. Save your breath for it no longer carries the weight of your words to our ears."

***

"Quick, Sub-Commander. The transporter room!"

She stared at Lt Reed without blinking. "Lieutenant, the Zenari do not need the use of our transporter."

"No," Said Lt Reed, trying to keep the slight shake out of his voice. "But maybe they do need it for the Commander."

She blinked but right at that moment had no better idea and doing something was infinitely better than doing nothing. She tried not to consider her reasoning too closely. Being around the Humans for so long was definitely having a detrimental effect on her level of intelligence. A curt nod and they were making their way swiftly, their steps getting quicker as they progressed as if some sense of urgency were prevailing upon them. As they turned the last corner before reaching their destination the Sub-Commander found herself being pushed against the wall as the Armoury Officer drew his phaser and fired. Shock whipped through her diminutive frame then her eyes narrowed as they locked on the figures firing back at them. The simulacrums of Dr Phlox and Lt Reed were trying to get the unconscious Commander into the transporter room and shut the door before they could stop them.

The Sub-Commander drew her phaser and added her fire to Lt Reed's. Whether by skill or luck she was gratified to see the Lieutenant's accurate phase fire take down his duplicate. The Sub-Commander urged him to keep firing. "We must destroy them completely, Lieutenant. Wounding is not an option we can afford."

He gritted his teeth and continued to fire.

"Try not to hit the Commander."

Lt Reed resisted the urge to say something very rude to her and simply redoubled his efforts. Their combined fire brought down the doctor as well, the Commander lying slumped on the floor between them. As the Vulcan drew nearer she kept firing, over and over again, until the two copies were hardly recognisable. Lt Reed stopped firing and dropped to his knees beside the inert Commander. He quickly checked his pulse and let out a sigh of relief. "He's still breathing, Sub-Commander."

She nodded and this time used the wall com. In less than a minute a team of security officers converged on their position and while some helped with the Commander the others were instructed to clean up the remains. Uneasy looks passed between them and the Sub-Commander quickly gave them an abbreviated explanation of the copies. Informing them as to how the Zenari had tried to infiltrate the ship. Fortunately the faces of the copies were a congealing mess but it was still disturbing to see what were clearly Starfleet uniforms riddled with phaser fire. Only disciplined responses prevented the security team from balking in their duty. It helped that Lt Reed was so calm. His orders issued in a matter of fact tone that steadied them. He explained that the Zenari had also captured the Captain.

Ensign Marks hesitated. "Sir, what do you want us to do with the bodies?"

Lt Reed looked at Sub-Commander T'Pol. She wanted to keep the bodies for analysis but considered that might be courting further danger yet ignorance could be an even greater potential threat. They needed to understand what they were up against. It was time to make a considered decision weighing up all the pros and cons. Even though their Zenari shades had probably returned to their masters on Zeon she wanted to take no chances. She ordered the remains to be placed in a couple of the lead lined coffins they kept in stores. The Ensign immediately set about the unpleasant task while his senior officers escorted the unconscious Commander Tucker to sickbay. Lt Reed was wondering when all the nasty surprises would come to an end. Glancing sideways at the Sub-Commander's taut expression he had a feeling it would not be any time soon.

***

He could hear voices impinging on the deepest recesses of his unconscious mind. As if tripping an internal alarm he surfaced quickly. His consciousness shrouded in the sluggish realm of hibernation to mask his rapid return to alertness. He did not open his eyes. The Denobulan made no attempt to move or see what was around him. Other senses stretched and tugged at the boundaries of his abilities gleaning information however slight to inform his brain of potential danger. The voices were Zenari but thankfully they were some distance away. No one had thought to come this far from the dome. He wondered if they found the atmosphere too difficult for their respiratory systems then berated himself. With the kind of technology and evolution at their fingertips a little thing like being able to breathe would hardly stop them. He was not even sure they had a respiratory system to begin with. No. It must be something else. He must learn to stop thinking in Human terms. Vaguely he became aware of words. They floated like a mist and were almost as hard to hold on to.

"Where are they? They could not have escaped!"

"I do not know, your excellency."

The voices paused. He heard the shifting brush of cloth, no doubt their heavy robes swishing across the ground as they walked. "We underestimated them."

"It must have been the spy."

"Yes."

"How did they get him out? He was dying."

"Not quickly enough it seems."

Another voice interrupted the two. Dr Phlox could not hear it properly, could not tell who it was let alone what was being said but he did hear the response. "Ah! Good. Let us go back inside."

The second voice sounded a little on the smug side which disturbed the doctor more than the actual conversation. "A much better solution, excellency."

"Indeed. Now we can monitor them more closely and see how events unfold."

Then the voices were gone. Whisked away by a return to the dome. Shut off from the unexpected input the doctor felt even more helpless than he had before but all was not lost. They would come back for him. He just had to ensure that when they did so they would not walk into a trap. He forced painful eyes open and realised it was almost fully dark. That could both help and hinder him. First he needed to get himself moving, even though it meant dragging his non-responsive bloated flesh across the rough jagged ground of this forsaken planet. If he could get further from the dome he could risk mind scanning for T'Pol but not this close. Gritting his teeth, the Denobulan began the long painful task of crawling, his upper limbs having to act for his legs as well as his arms. The effort draining him as much as it crucified him but too much was at stake to allow a little thing like agony to put him off. He had waited almost twenty years for this and he would not fail now.

***

Once in sickbay they quickly got Commander Tucker on to a biobed then Sub-Commander T'Pol began to examine the unconscious Chief Engineer paying particular attention to his spinal column. Lt Reed watched for a few minutes then turned his head at a noise to his left. Ensign Cutler was beginning to stir on another biobed. Leaving T'Pol to look after Trip he went over to her bed and gave her a sardonic smile as she carefully opened her eyes. Seeing her squint up at him reminded him of the numerous occasions he had cause to curse the bright lighting. He gave a reassuring smile, "One moment."

Her eyes followed him as he stepped away then a sigh of relief eased from her lips as he dimmed the lighting to a more comfortable level. Sub-Commander T'Pol raised her head and glanced across at him but made no comment. She quickly turned back to the Commander, checking through all the scans Ensign Cutler had made before the copies attacked. Seeing the Lieutenant pull up a chair beside the Ensign's bed, Sub-Commander T'Pol felt free to place a hand on the Commander's shoulder, her eyes watching him intently with concern. After a moment she brought her hand up to his cheek and splayed her fingers. They settled comfortably on the contact points and with hardly any effort at all she slid into his mind. He was disorientated and though divorced from pain the memory of it lingered. He did not seem himself.

*Trip? Concentrate on my voice*

For a moment there was silence then he responded. *T'Pol? That you?*

*Yes*

*What the hell happened?*

*I was hoping you could tell me*

He felt confused. *Was I knocked out?*

*In a manner of speaking*

*Where's the doc?*

Something stopped her from telling him. She frowned and carefully hid her reaction. *What is the last thing you remember?*

*Some argument with a ceiling. Far as I can recall I lost*

It was enough like his normal humour to reassure her yet still she was cautious. He seemed to sense that his favourite Vulcan was holding something back.

*T'Pol? What's goin' on?*

*Mind games*

*Care to be more specific?*

*The Zenari*

*Well I didn't figure ya were talkin' about Klingons. Where am I?*

*On Enterprise*

He paused for so long she thought he had drifted. *We gotta get outta here, T'Pol. We're in danger*

*It is too late*

*Huh?*

*They have the Captain* She felt the Commander's heart lurch, the concomittant pain piercing her.

*The Zenari?*

*No, the Xindi*

*Just how many enemies we got lining up?*

*The Zenari down on Zeon and the Xindi on their ship. The former tricked us and the latter attacked us*

*All the more reason to get outta here, T'Pol*

*Not without the Captain*

Trip paused. *Sometimes ya just gotta make the best of the hand ya got. We have a saying on my homeworld T'Pol, 'he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day'.*

*We also have a saying: *honour is the true sword, loyalty the shield*

*What's that supposed to mean?*

*We do not abandon each other in battle nor do we turn aside from the difficult decisions*

*That what ya think I was doin'?*

She paused for a fraction of a second. *We are not leaving without Captain Archer*

The Commander seemed to think about that. *The Cap'n's on a Xindi ship?*

*Yes*

*Have we tried hailin' 'em?*

*It brings no resolution. The Xindi are vengeful, spiteful aliens. The more we try to reason with them the weaker they will think we are*

*But if it saves the Cap'n's life...*

*It will not*

Another more awkward pause this time. *Ya sound pretty sure on that score. Mind sharin' with me?*

*We have been manouevred into this position, Commander*

He hardly noticed the formality. *What makes ya say that?*

*The Xindi and Zenari are allies*

Trip swore, the colourful language producing no reaction from T'Pol. Trip became aware of her mood. *T'Pol are ya mad at me?*

*No Commander*

*What happened to Trip?*

*Like Humpty Dumpty he had a great fall*

The Chief Engineer did not laugh neither did he make any comment on her use of a Human metaphor in the guise of a nursey rhyme. *Ya seem to be holding somethin' back from me*

*As are you*

He caught his breath. Every movement of his diaphram caused pain but right now it hardly registered with his heart in his mouth. *What do ya mean?*

T'Pol did not reply but did something so unexpected the Chief Engineer was taken completely by surprise. She opened up all her senses and plunged her mind forcibly into his. Trip jerked on the table, his closed eyes fluttering, his muscles spasming all over his body. Sub-Commander T'Pol did not relax her mental grip nor the violence of her intrusion. As she built up the pressure another part of her mind reached out for Dr Phlox. It seemed to take forever to get a response from the planet surface. It was a gamble but one she deemed worth the risk. When it came it was weak but infinitely welcome. She passed the sense of her suspicion to him and while the Commander tried to raise an effective defense the Denobulan unleashed his own mental assault. With a cry which rocked sickbay, the Commander shuddered hard and spasmed so violently it broke T'Pol's connection and drew a panic stricken Lt Reed running to T'Pol's side.

The Sub-Commander sank to her knees, her face pale and glistening with perspiration. She looked as if all the strength had been drained out of her and replaced with fear. Lt Reed checked the Commander. His pulse had weakened considerably and tiny aftershocks were firing in his muscles making the body twitch yet his eyes were closed and nothing seemed to cause any reaction from him. Anxious for his friend and alarmed at the Sub-Commander's condition, he crouched beside her seeking answers. "Sub-Commander? T'Pol? What the bloody hell happened?"

The Vulcan rose slowly to her feet, shaking so badly Lt Reed helped her. She was looking at Trip, shaking her head, but her words were for the Lieutenant. She seemed dazed and sadder than he could ever remember hearing her sound before. It sent icy tendrils ripping through him making him shudder even as her words stunned him. "Lieutenant, help me strap the Commander down."

He made no effort to hide his shock. "What? Why would I do that?"

She turned bleak eyes on him. They shone oddly. If he did not know better he would say the Sub-Commander was on the brink of tears. "The Commander is not himself."

Lt Reed's eyes widened with alarm. "You don't mean this is... another copy?"

T'Pol shook her head. "No. The body is that of Commander Tucker but I believe someone else is in control."

Malcolm swallowed hard. "Zenari?"

"Undoubtedly."

Lt Reed's hands shook as he helped the Sub-Commander fasten the straps across Trip's body and pull them tight. "How did you know?"

"When I entered the Commander's mind it was like walking through a virgin landscape."

The Armoury Officer did not make any trite quips. "Is Trip... alright?"

"He is deeply traumatised, Lieutenant."

"Does he know you?"

The Sub-Commander blinked at him. "The Commander is trapped inside his own body, Lieutenant. I believe he can see and hear us but cannot respond directly."

"I don't understand. When the Zenari made copies of Dr Phlox and myself the copies were able to interact and pass themselves off as us. Why should it be so different for Trip?"

"Because he is not a copy. The presence that occupies his mind and is trying to manipulate him is doing so by force. The violence of the spasms you witnessed is evidence that the Commander--though unable to communicate with us--is struggling to break free."

"When this is over I think we should blow the bloody Zenari to kingdom come."

"You have to catch them first, Lieutenant."

"How do we get the Zenari presence out of Trip?"

"We don't."

"I'm sorry?"

"We don't Lieutenant, the only one who can effectively expel them is the Commander."

"Hold on a minute, T'Pol, you said that Trip is unable to communicate with us. That the Zenari have control over him, am I right?"

She nodded, feeling miserable and anxious.

"If that's the case how in hell is Trip supposed to fight these bloody super-aliens?"

"With our help. Right now Dr Phlox is giving what limited aid he can to the Commander, that is why he is not dead."

The last small amount of colour fled from the Armoury Officer's face. Oh God, this was worse than anything he could have possibly imagined. He glanced at the Commander. His body was still twitching but there was no sign of the Commander regaining consciousness. He wanted to cry. "How can Dr Phlox help him?"

"Not just the doctor, you and I will need to assist as well."

"What do you want me to do?"

"We will have to enter trance together. Join our energies with the doctor's then give that energy to the Commander along with some instructions."

Lt Reed felt like a non-swimmer who had somehow wandered out of his depth. Any minute now he was expecting dark waters to close over his head and oblivion to find him. He found himself saying a silent prayer for his friend. It was not fair. Hadn't the engineer suffered enough? "Okay, Sub-Commander. Just tell me what I have to do..."


	16. In Thrall

Dr Phlox was so weary yet he knew how important his contribution was. He needed energy but his reserves were all but depleted by the need to respond to the Sub-Commander's frantic order. He shuddered at the memory of the dark forces he had touched. At least two minds diametrically opposed to everything he believed to be sacrosanct vied with him and the Vulcan for control of the Chief Engineer's mind and by default his body too. The physician in him was sick at heart for causing the Commander still further trauma but there was nothing else they could do. It was imperative to break the Zenari hold over him. Now he suddenly found himself fighting alone. The dark insidious march of evil hovered on the outskirts of his consciousness. He did not know how much longer he could hold on.

***

There was deadly silence on the bridge. Ensign Hoshi Sato felt numb, her whole world seeming to slowly unravel before her very eyes but without a thread of logic to string it all together. She looked at Travis. He seemed to be very self contained as if whatever was happening carried their sanity as well as their very lives by the thinnest of threads. She longed to get him alone and demand answers from him but they had not been relieved and there was no way she would desert her post with everything so critically balanced. She pursed her lips but Ensign Mayweather kept his eyes on his navigation console. He appeared to be deep in thought.

At first she was mad at him. So furious to be kept out of the loop that she wanted to ram her anger down his throat and shake him until he told her what he knew. Then her anger dissipated. Glimpsing a wary misery in his eyes that told her that whatever he knew came at a very high cost. How could she blame him for doing his duty? She was the one who needed to be brought into line not him. The insight calmed her and made her wonder what she could do to help. Then she got an idea. Her speciality was languages. The Zenari had a very complex social system and more language variations than any other species she had ever encountered. Could she perhaps discover something in their own language to help them fight this most accomplished of enemies? Excitement began to stir inside her. The opportunity to do more than sit on her hands was a gift she did not intend to squander.

Quietly and carefully Hoshi began to sift and collate every bit of information she had gleaned about the Zenari then used both her gifted ear as well as her eyes to look for anything that could give them an insight into who and what they were dealing with.

***

The Xindi Captain did not laugh. Nothing the Human Captain did or said was of concern to him. Captain Archer was feeling not only helpless but also frantic. He tried to stay calm. Giving in to panic would not get him out of this fix or enable him to do anything to help his crew. "Listen, I think we are both being manipulated."

"What you think is irrelevant."

"Then you won't mind if I tell you."

The Xindi Captain could not believe how slow to comprehend the Human was. And *this* inept creature was their future downfall? It was an insult to sentient life everywhere. "You are a pathetic lifeform."

The voice was a grating sibilant sneer of contempt.

"That I may be," Said Captain Archer carefully. "But I'm not about to just give up because you say it's over. All I ask is that you let me speak. If I'm a dead man anyway what harm can it do? You might even learn something to your advantage."

The Xindi stepped closer to the Human. "Persistence does not equal intelligence."

"Neither does scorn and blind obedience."

That caught his captor's attention. "Obedience? We obey no one."

"That's not how it looks to me. You jump to follow what dictate the Zenari give. How did such a high and noble species fall so low as to become the slaves of the Zenari? Since when did you let others orchestrate your destiny?"

***

"What do you want me to do?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol blinked. For a moment she had forgotten Lt Reed was there. Her thoughts completely focused on the Commander's situation. Her heart aching for him in ways that she was sure were rare outside of the feelings between bonded mates. Yet she and the Commander were not bonded. They were friends. Colleagues. Did this mean they could be more? *Should* be more?

"Sub-Commander?"

The tone was more urgent now. T'Pol blinked again and this time forced herself to concentrate on the now anxious looking Armoury Officer. "We need to conjoin in deep trance, Lieutenant."

Lt Reed found himself hesitating. He wanted desperately to help Trip but something was definitely off about the Sub-Commander. He did not want to save one friend by sacrificing another. Or should that be two? "Are you sure this is the only way?" He asked carefully. What he really meant was *are you sure you are up to this?*

Somehow she knew. "Yes. There is no other way."

"You looked to be in some pain, Sub-Commander. What happened?"

"I managed to reach Dr Phlox but he is weak. We expected a presence. What took us unawares was finding two. Both strong and focused. Your strength and commitment will help us to assist the Commander."

He gazed at her in silence for a few moments then nodded. "Very well. Just tell me what to do."

Relief flooded through her knowing that time was of the essence. Quickly instructing him, T'Pol renewed her connection to the Commander, the fingertips of her right hand settling back on the pulse points on the left side of Trip's face. Lt Reed stood on the Commander's other side and copied her actions with his left hand splayed against Trip's right cheek. T'Pol used her free hand to carefully adjust his fingers until the pads of his fingertips were in exactly the right place. He was surprised how gentle she was, the ghost of something flitting over that controlled and austere mask. He wondered just how deep her feelings for the Commander went then mentally berated himself for wanting to know. It was none of his business. Then all thoughts of trivial things fled from his mind as he was joined by the Vulcan's thoughts, her steady pressure in his head opening him out to her control as the connection was deepened. With a jolt he sensed Trip struggling. *Trip, calm down. We're here to help you*

*Yeah? An' who's gonna help ya when ya get trapped in this damn nightmare?*

He almost laughed only things were too dire for such levity and they all knew it. *We're not going to get trapped*

*Yeah well ya know what they say about the best laid plans, Malcolm*

A dark intense shadow crossed over their thoughts and chilled the Lieutenant so much that he felt as if he were turning to ice then the Vulcan was with him and warmth began to seep back through his consciousness. T'Pol had warned him to block everything out but the Chief Engineer. He was to be the anchor. He had not asked what T'Pol and Dr Phlox would be. It somehow seemed irrelevant at this late stage.

T'Pol steadied Lt Reed and helped him focus. Unable to maintain any semblance of privacy the Sub-Commander embraced a position between her Vulcan reserve and her familiarity with the Commander. He must have sensed her reasoning because he neither questioned nor corrected her. Acceptance freed her of any reservations she might have had. It was good to be in such full accord with him. Once satisfied that the Lieutenant would be the immovable object Trip needed to cling to, she withdrew sufficiently to link with Dr Phlox. Alarmed at how weak he was she gave him some of her strength.

*Do not be foolish, Sub-Commander. I am expendable, you are not*

*If we would help the Commander, none of us are expendable* Corrected T'Pol.

There was a slight pause. *I apologise. You are correct*

*Now enjoin your mind to my mind, your thoughts to my thoughts, the beat of your heart in synchrony with mine*

As she asked, so he did.

*You have not forgotten your training, doctor*

*I had an excellent teacher*

*Now we must cast the shadows out, are you ready?*

*Yes*

Flowing energy into energy, they became one bright purpose. T'Pol fixed her inner eye on the flame and Dr Phlox embraced it. Together they drew the fire and the light up through the many veils of darkness being wound around their friend and colleague. As they rose up through the dark heavy layers of reforming matter, little fell sparks of foul intent burned at them trying to steal their heat and freeze it. T'Pol never wavered once. Dr Phlox expanded their envelope of light, a blazing sun rising up through Trip's struggling consciousness. Lt Reed felt a deep shudder go through his body but hung on for grim death.

Empty black mouths tried to suck at Commander Tucker's lifeforce. T'Pol could see wisps of it drifting away. Dr Phlox heard her heart-felt cry and fragmented part of his consciousness to retrieve the errant strands and weave it back into the unique DNA that held the hope of untold universes. All of them were trembling now but oblivious to the effort. Only the outcome concerned them. T'Pol and the doctor began to weave a web of light around the Commander and Lieutenant. The Zenari were furious, venting their frozen spite and trying to shred the protective layer away from the Human. Trip felt his breath flagging as if not enough air was getting into his physical lungs. T'Pol noticed and tried to calm him. Reached out to the Armoury Officer to impress upon his friend the need to stay calm.

*Trip, relax. The more you tense up the easier it is for them to bind you. Let T'Pol and Dr Phlox do their jobs*

*Easy for ya to say, ya should be in the armoury*

*If that's all the thanks I get I may just take you up on that, Commander* Was the tart response.

Silence. An awkward, pained pause followed. *I'm sorry, Malcolm. Guess I'm just a little frightened*

*Who isn't?* Came the mild and compassionate response.

Then suddenly the Zenari switched tactics going from intense cold to terrifying heat. Trip cried out, his body curling up in self defence, his mind shrivelling at the unexpected violence of the heat surge. Lt Reed almost lost his grip, only the intrusion of T'Pol and Dr Phlox kept the link intact. Furious the Zenari tried to attack them but together the three were strong. Maybe not stronger than their enemy but certainly wiley enough to outwit them long enough to gain an edge however small.

*How long can we keep this up?* Asked Lt Reed.

*For as long as necessary* Asserted Dr Phlox.

T'Pol ignored them both and reached out for Trip. "Commander? Trip? Are you with us?*

His thoughts responded, sounding lazy and drugged. *Nowhere else I'd rather be, darlin'*

She frowned, concerned. *You must expel them, Trip, do you understand?*

*Expel who?* He slurred.

*The Zenari*

*Thought they were the good guys?* He mumbled.

The Sub-Commander felt her heart miss a beat. *No, they are the enemy, Trip. Do not get drawn into their mental seduction*

She could feel his humour. *They're gonna seduce me?*

*Mentally*

He paused. *Oh*. She thought he sounded vaguely disappointed.

*Resist, Commander*

*Too tired, T'Pol. Just wanna go 'sleep*

Her thoughts were so sharp they pierced his lethargy for just a moment. *You must not go to sleep! Waking is survival, sleeping is death*

*Death huh?*

*Yes, Commander*

A pause. *What happened to Trip?*

*He was busy being seduced by the Dark Side of the Force, what the bloody hell do you think happened to him?*

Trip hesitated. *Malcolm?*

*Still here, now do as you're bloody well told for once*

Trip sobered up fast. Felt something slimey nudge at the inside of his brain. It felt all kinds of creepy and made him want to be sick. *There's somethin' in my head...*

*If it was a brain cell I'd celebrate,* Came the Lieutenant's dry response. *But I can't hold my breath that long*

*Hardy-har-har, very funny just don't give up the day job*

T'Pol intruded like a stern Head Mistress. *Concentrate, embrace the light we are creating*

*Got ya, T'Pol. Light. I'm embracin' it...* Trip paused. *What d'ya want me to do with it?*

She resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. There was no time. *Push it towards the wall of darkness. Can you see it?*

*Nah, sense it though*

*I think that will be good enough, Commander*

*That you doc?*

*Yes*

*Glad ya could join the party*

*I would not have missed it for the world* The Denobulan dead-panned.

Lt Reed hissed in frustration. *Can we cut out all the back slapping and get back to work?*

Chastened, the banter ended abruptly and all four of them concentrated on the light. Drawing on T'Pol's imagery to focus their thoughts on the one goal then pushing out in a concerted ring around the Commander until the heavy suffocating wall of darkness began to shift. The pain was incredible, a tight band of agony squeezing their minds as if their heads were strapped into mediaeval vices. T'Pol managed to touch Trip's mind for a pure moment of unbound ecstasy. Free of the pain and restraint he felt his hope flare bright and unblemished and in the instant it did so T'Pol embraced it and made it fiercely her own. Sensing her intent, Dr Phlox did the same. After a moment's hesitation so did the Lieutenant. As all four immolated themselves in vibrant imagery the shadows of darkness binding the Chief Engineer began to weaken.

Trip felt T'Pol in his mind. *Push Trip, push as hard as you can and for as long as you can. If you lose this contest of wills you will not get another chance. You will be beyond our power to save*

Panic momentarily flooded him. The thought of losing T'Pol a pain so acute it cut briefly through to Malcolm and Dr Phlox searing them with echoes of his torment. Quickly he quashed it and did as he was told, his burgeoning feelings adding strength to his determination not to give in. Oddly enough an old saying Malcolm had once told him echoed in his mind: 'The only thing necessary for evil to prosper is for the good to do nothing'. He had always liked that quote. Never had it seemed more appropriate to him than now. He felt Malcolm smile wryly in his mind as if approving his choice then redoubled his efforts, sensing the others doing the same. He felt a sudden surge of pride in his friends and the light flared even brighter, the hungry shadows falling back as their flames licked outward created a clensing path back to consciousness. From darkness into light.

***

The Xindi Captain consulted with his small war cabinet over what to do with the Human. The insectoid Chancellor was indignant. "He must die! Why hesitate? What is it your feeble reptillian brain fails to comprehend?"

The Xindi Captain bit back a sibilant hiss of anger. "The Human intimated that we are being used. I do not like to be manipulated."

"The Human lies. It is aware of its' imminent death." The mammalian Xindi shrugged. "Why are you surprised? Even primative lifeforms cling to their existence however pathetic it may be."

"This Human seems more structured. His words disturb me."

The Chancellor leaned forward. "Then his plan is working."

For a moment the three stared at each other in silence. At last the Xindi Captain spoke. "I think if the next act we agree on is the death of this creature we should hear its' last words in full."

***

Ensign Travis Mayweather was getting increasingly anxious. Time was passing and none of the senior command staff had returned to the bridge. What the hell was happening? Why had the Sub-Commander not updated him? The silence was disturbing and they still had no news about the Captain. His moribund thoughts were interrupted by an excited little gasp from Hoshi. "What is it?"

She turned a barely believing radiant look in his direction. "I don't believe it!"

"What?"

"The Xindi."

"I thought you were studying the Zenari language, Hoshi?"

"I was but in going back into their roots I found something unexpected. The sundering of their base language happened at a very specific point in their existence."

Travis frowned. What did that have to do with anything? Who cared when the Zenari learnt to form sentences or understand maths? "Hoshi, this is serious..."

She nodded as she cut him off. "And so am I." Hoshi held up a placating hand. "Just hear me out Travis and if you fail to agree you can shove me out of an air lock."

That made Travis raise his eyebrows. Caught between surprise and amusement he could deny her nothing. "Okay, genius. Give. What have you discovered?"

***

Trip opened his eyes and blinked. Only Lt Reed seemed completely focused, the Sub-Commander's face a pale wash of colour. She looked as if the only thing keeping her upright was the Commander's biobed. She leaned heavily against it and closed her eyes in relief. Malcolm smiled down at his friend, instinctively knowing the danger was over. The Zenari interlopers were gone. And good riddance. "Welcome back, Commander. How do you feel?"

"How d'ya think I feel? Like I've kicked been around the corral by wild horses. Don't think there's a part of me that doesn't ache." He paused then looked seriously at the silent Vulcan. His eyes clouded with worry. "T'Pol? Ya alright?"

For long seconds she did not move. Lt Reed contemplated scanning her then changed his mind. He had got rather fond of living. Trip moved his hand to touch hers where it gripped the side of his biobed so hard her knuckles were white.

"T'Pol?"

The softening of his voice paradoxically penetrated her befogged senses where shouting would have gone unremarked. Slowly her eyes opened and he beheld those deep exotic liquid pools. For a minute no one spoke. He squeezed her hand gently and T'Pol took a steadying breath. "It is good to see you conscious, Commander."

"How about you?" He asked softly. "How d'ya feel?"

She considered brushing him off but realised that would be another kind of lie. You did not build a strong house on a weak foundation. "Tired. My energy has been depleted."

"You need to rest." Said Lt Reed.

T'Pol shook her head. "Not until we retrieve the doctor. We must hurry, Lieutenant. He will be even weaker now and more vulnerable than is prudent."

The Armoury Officer thought that was a masterpiece of understatement and judging by the expression on Trip's face the Chief Engineer agreed with him. Trip began to sit up. The Sub-Commander placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. "You are not going anywhere, Commander."

"Uh huh, I'm comin' with ya to get the doc back."

"No, you are not. You need to stay here and work out a way to rescue the Captain."

She saw the flash of pain deepen in his eyes then guilt because for a moment he had completely forgotten about the Captain. "One day we're gonna run into a group a aliens that don't wanna kill us, eat us or impregnate us with their larvae..."

"Larvae?" Mused Lt Reed.

Trip mock-scowled at him. "Ya know what I mean."

"I would hardly call Ahlen's baby a larvae."

The mock-scowl became a real one as Trip flushed. Before war could break out Sub-Commander T'Pol intervened. "We do not have time for this. Commander Tucker, please try to get some sleep. Do you require any medication to help you achieve this?"

He tried to stifle a yawn. What the hell was the matter with him? He felt as weak as a baby. Then he remembered and nodded quietly, his manner becoming subdued. "I think I'll do that, T'Pol, but I don't want any sleeping tablets. I've had enough manipulation to last me a lifetime."

She frowned. "Manipulation?"

"Yeah. Long story. Tell ya all about it when I wake up."

T'Pol nodded. Lt Reed gave Trip a smile then went to see how Ensign Cutler was doing. He was pleased to see she looked much better. When she tried to get up he stopped her and shook his head. "It would be more than my life's worth Liz to let you out of sickbay without the doctor's authorisation."

"Where is Dr Phlox?"

The Sub-Commander answered. "He is down on the Zenari homeworld. We are going down to bring him back."

She looked confused. "What is he doing down there?"

"He has been studying the Zenari."

Lt Reed shot her a look of amazement which fortunately went unseen by the Ensign. Trip frowned but said nothing. He was finding it hard to keep his eyes open let alone follow the conversation.

"Surely he is not down there on his own?"

"Ensign, do not alarm yourself. Get some rest and if you want to do something useful perhaps you could keep an eye on the Commander?"

Ensign Cutler nodded. Relieved to be able to help in some way. T'Pol turned to say something to the Commander and was surprised to find him already fast asleep. Lt Reed smiled at his friend then gave the Sub-Commander an amused look. She failed to see what was so funny. Before she could berate him, he nodded to the door. "Perhaps we should go, Sub-Commander?"

She realised he did not simply mean leave sickbay. He was referring to their trip back down to Zeon. Giving him a curt nod back she turned and walked out, the Lieutenant falling into brisk step beside her. He just hoped the doctor could hold on long enough to be rescued.


	17. Oblivion

He felt the light hands touch him. At first he took little notice, it was a fleeting distraction and full consciousness kept slipping out of his grasp. But then everything began to solidify into a more permanent reality around him and the hands became flesh. He was confused, not recognising the touch. His eyes fluttered open, surprised to find Ensign Cutler hovering over him. "What ya doin', Liz?"

She jumped slightly and he could not resist a playful little smirk, eyes twinkling through the haze of exhaustion induced sleep. "You're awake!"

"Yep, an' wonderin' why your hands are wanderin' all over me while I'm sleepin'."

As he expected she blushed to the tips of her ears. "I was concerned about you, needed to see if you were alright."

"Uh huh, and did feelin' me up while I was unconscious answer your questions?"

She stared at him in indignant reaction then caught the gleam in his eyes and frowned as she realised he was just teasing. "That wasn't very funny, Commander."

"Why were ya proddin' me like that?"

She felt self conscious but he had a right to know. "I heard you had a bad fall. That you had a suspected broken back."

Trip remembered now. The horror of finding himself unable to move or feel anything from the neck down. Had to admit to being more than a mite terrified himself. Since being back in sickbay he had regained movement and feeling in the rest of his body. No matter how sluggish it felt good. He frowned, both of them unaware that the Sub-Commander had just entered sickbay. "That's weird, don't feel paralysed now."

Ensign Cutler opened her mouth to comment when a calm voice broke in on their conversation. "The Commander did not break his back, Ensign."

"I'm confused." Said Trip, turning his head to look at his favourite Vulcan. "I couldn't move down on Zeon, but now I can. Did ya do something to me?"

The Sub-Commander shook her head and came to stand the other side of the biobed from Ensign Cutler. "No, but the Zenari did."

"The Zenari? What the hell do they have to do with it?"

"The Zenari lie. In thought, word and deed, Commander."

"Ya mean...?"

She nodded. "Yes, Commander. They manipulated your mind into believing you were paralysed from the neck down. Your condition was pyschosomatic."

He swore softly but was still not comprehending. "Why?"

"So that you would not try to escape."

He wanted to laugh. "T'Pol, I fell forty feet from a ceiling. Where in the name of Zefram Cochran was I gonna go? Not even Malcolm could find a way to get outta that precious tomb."

Ensign Cutler was following their conversation with interest but Trip's latest comment baffled her. "Tomb?"

Trip turned his head to look at her. "Yeah. They got this elaborate room called the Crystal Chamber. Huge thing with a floor made of somethin' like marble. You had to stand in it to believe it existed."

"You called it a tomb."

He nodded. "That's what it was, ornate or not it was a locked box with us trapped inside it."

Ensign Culter had to resist the urge to shudder and concentrated on the other thing he had let slip. "Forty feet?"

He wished he had kept his mouth shut. No way in hell could he tell her his fall had been broken by him landing on Dr Phlox. Poor girl was confused enough and the answers he had were not for her ears. Not now, maybe not ever. He realised that T'Pol was still there and frowned at her, wondering if he was slowly losing his mind. "I thought ya were gonna go bring the doc back?"

"We did."

The Ensign's face briefly lit up until she caught the look in the Sub-Commander's eye. That look almost made her flatline. "Sub-Commander?"

"Lt Reed will be bringing the doctor to sickbay shortly."

"Couldn't ya have helped him, T'Pol?"

A wariness crept into the Vulcan's eyes, a wariness she kept carefully screened from Ensign Cutler. Trip marvelled at her sensitivity at a time like this, knowing that Liz was inordinately fond of the good doctor.

"I wanted to see if you were conscious first, Commander."

That surprised him so much that his eyebrows rose and disappeared into his hairline. There was the hint of a glare in T'Pol's eyes at his expression. As if she thought he was mocking her only he wasn't. "Why would ya wanna do that?"

"Because the doctor wishes to talk to you."

What the hell? He thought the doc had been dying. What was going on? He realised he would learn nothing more with Ensign Cutler standing there. He had an idea. "Ensign?"

"Yes, Commander?"

The formality seemed to steady her quicker than anything else. It was a comforting structure to fall back on when everything else seemed to suddenly have lost all its' boundaries. He understood how she felt. "It's time ya took a break."

Before she could protest the Sub-Commander added her voice. "Before you do so Ensign, please go to the bridge and ask Ensign Mayweather to come to sickbay."

She wanted to protest but the Sub-Commander was the First Officer and she had just been given an order. Plus she really was tired and her head was beginning to throb again. At least the doctor was back and seemingly in one piece or he would have been brought straight to sickbay. Thus reassured she left. T'Pol waited until the door hissed shut behind her then turned to look at Trip, her eyes softening as she beheld him.

"How bad is he?" Asked the Chief Engineer.

A tiny sigh leaked out between her plush lips. "Every bone in his body appears to have been liquified."

Shock. Horror. Anger and distress. She gently cradled a hand against the side of his face, not activating the pulse points but aching to touch him. Give a small fraction of the comfort she wanted to bestow on him. Her need was so great she could not trust herself to even skate upon the edge of a light trance with him. She would want to subsume him, absorb every cell of his being into hers or vice versa. It did not matter which way round it happened so long as they became one. The strength of her feelings shook her yet outwardly she remained calm though not so distant as before. He sensed her tension and turned his face so that he could kiss the palm of her hand. He felt her tremble at the touch of his lips. "C'mon, T'Pol." He murmured in his warm honeyed tone. "My thought to your thoughts."

"We cannot. Ensign Mayweather will be here soon and we have to help Dr Phlox."

The return to duty cooled his passion but he let the embers burn on in his eyes. Wanted her to know that her feelings were reciprocated even if they must remain unspoken. A light balance of heat vied between them in seductive tension. Trip bathed in it, revelled in the knowledge that since their mental joining he could read her. Taste her thoughts and touch the outline of her fear. His silence was her strength. He knew it and joyed in the opportunity to do this for her. However small the gift he would not squander it. Every beat of her heart written inside his own in the flowing script that only came from a lover's hand. Yet they were not lovers. The connection forming between them went beyond that. How he knew did not matter one iota but he did not question that it was true. Gut instinct. Destiny. They were only words. Whatever it was he embraced it with a calm the envy of Surak. He did not know that they were being drawn into a bond that nothing could break.

***

Ensign Hoshi Sato's face was shining. Travis looked at her in awe.

"You're serious?"

Hoshi nodded. "Yes."

"But that means..."

"The Zenari created the Xindi."

Stunned silence hit the bridge. Only then did Hoshi realise she had said aloud what should have been said in private. Nervous eyes flicked to the other members of the bridge crew. Rostov hardly blinked but his look was intent, his focus on her to the exclusion of all else. Oh rats. How was she going to explain her slip to the Sub-Commander? Just then her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Ensign Cutler. They all turned to stare at her. Liz gave them a nod.

"Ensign Mayweather, the Sub-Commander requests your presence in sickbay."

For a moment his eyes drifted wide then he got a grip and gave her a business like nod back. "Thank you." He glanced at Hoshi. "I'll mention your theory to the Sub-Commander."

His eyes said so much more. Hoshi nodded, wishing she could be a fly on the wall for that little conversation. Realising Liz was still standing just inside the door Hoshi turned to her and forced a bright smile. "How is Dr Phlox?"

Travis left, not once looking back as the women talked.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him yet."

Ensign Sato was careful not to frown. "What are you going to do now?"

"The Sub-Commander told me to get some rest."

Hoshi smiled. "Good idea, I plan to do the same just as soon as I'm relieved."

Only when Liz Cutler had left did Rostov speak. "I don't know about anyone else," He said in a deceptively casual voice. "But I would definitely love to know what is going on."

It was the inevitable invitation for Hoshi to open up. The communications officer resisted the urge to roll her eyes and said nothing. Damn. She would have to learn to be much more careful. Even though she did not know a lot it was still more than most of the crew. By her reckoning only the Captain, Trip, T'Pol, Malcolm, Dr Phlox and Travis knew what was going on. If she played this right she would soon be taken into the magic circle. She forced herself to calm down and be patient even though it was driving her nuts. Longing to be given even the smallest chance of helping. Praying that when T'Pol spoke to Travis and he relayed what she had said that the Vulcan would realise she had something useful to contribute as well. She almost smiled. Ensign Hoshi Sato had come a long way from the terrified and nervous girl who had first set sail across the unknown ocean of space in pursuit of a dead man's dream.

***

Captain Jonathan Archer forced himself to breathe slowly, taking the breath deep into his lungs before exhaling as carefully as possible. He needed to calm down not hyperventilate. It was not only his life hanging in the balance but that of his crew and his entire planet. Never had the weight of command been such a burden. Yet he would not relinquish it for anything. He would rise to this challenge because it was inconceivable to do otherwise. To die fighting and struggling for a noble cause was infinitely better than being swallowed by apathy.

He was seated in a strange chair. It reminded him of the banned substance known as ivory. Carved in odd rune-like crenellations it was white like alabaster and oddly warm to the touch where his hands gripped the armature, pieces of iron set in the handrests across the poles of two magnets like an exotic inlay. A pattern with a purpose. At first he had thought it a torture device now he just considered it a part of the oddness that was the Xindi mindset. Whatever it was for he sat ill at ease while trying to project a state of ataraxia.

"Speak, Human, then be silent until the stars are dust."

The Captain wet his lips, tried to hide his nervousness and hoped his leaking palms would not be the cause of his electrocution. "What do you want me to say?"

The insectoid Chancellor almost lashed out and hit him. Incensed with the Human's dull wits. The reptillian Captain spoke to forstall such an outcome. "You were speaking about the Zenari."

He nodded, relieved that they were at least giving him a chance to state his case. "The Zenari lie. They lied to the Vulcans when they made first contact almost a hundred years ago and they are lying now."

"Lie? How?" Said the mammalian Xindi, his facial features compressed in what mimicked a frown.

"You believe that we Humans are the future downfall of your entire species."

"We have seen and it is so." Snapped the Chancellor.

"No. You have seen a *possible* future. The one they wanted you to believe."

The Chancellor's eyes narrowed dangerously. As if he were maligning the Gods. "I think you are the one who dissembles, Human."

"I speak the truth."

"Then," Said the reptillian Captain without a qualm. "You will not mind proving it."

Before Captain Archer could ask him what he meant the Xindi Captain waved his hand over a sensor at the back of the chair switching it on. Current flowed in a strangely synthetic arc, flowing in waves through his body but not causing actual pain. He tried to lift his hands off the handrests but it was as if his skin was glued to the surface. He just stared at his captors, half driven by fear, half by curiosity. The mammalian Xindi looked transfixed. "It is curious." He said in mild surprise.

"And fearful." Added the Chancellor with some satisfaction.

"But not because he lies." Said the Xindi Captain.

They exchanged glances. Captain Archer gritted his teeth. "What are you doing to me?"

The Xindi Captain ignored his question and leaned in a little closer to the Human. "Now, repeat what you know about the Zenari."

He thought of refusing for all of a second, a sudden subtle change in the current seeming to warn him against any deviation. So he spoke the truth, repeating as much as he could remember from his conversations with T'Pol and what they had managed to glean so far. The war cabinet watched him in silence. After he had finished speaking the silence stretched for so long that the Captain's ears were beginning to ache for lack of sound. When the Xindi Captain spoke at last it was not to address the Human. "He believes what he says."

"That is not truth." Stated the Chancellor.

"We believe what the Zenari told us." Mused the Xindi Captain.

The Chancellor's face seemed to darken. "Are you agreeing with this creature?"

"No, honoured cousin, just musing over what has been said."

"And what of what has *not* been said?" Asked the mammalian Xindi, his eyes fixed on the Human.

The reptillian Captain looked thoughtful then seemed to come to a decision. "Choose your questions carefully and we will see what manner of belief he clothes himself in. Whether the lie is skin deep or a fabrication of limited intelligence struggling to comprehend its' own inadequacy."

***

Ensign Mayweather was relieved to see the Commander awake and seemingly little the worse for his adventure. He looked around but could not see any sign of the doctor. Questioning eyes homed in on the Vulcan Sub-Commander. T'Pol anticipated his question. "Dr Phlox is with Lt Reed."

The Ensign nodded but was more confused than ever.

"Please join Lt Reed and assist him in bringing the doctor to sickbay."

Alarmed now he could not hide his concern. "Is he injured?"

"Yes."

Travis was about to ask another question when the Commander butted in. "I'd go now if I was you Travis an' ask questions later. A man could bleed to death while ya satisfy your curiosity."

It was not said unkindly but the words made Travis feel guilty. He nodded. "Where is he?"

"Dr Phlox is in the transporter room." Said T'Pol. "Please hurry, Ensign. I will remain with the Commander."

Once he had gone Trip gave T'Pol a long look. Gently he picked up her hand and held it to his chest almost without conscious thought cupping her palm over his heart. "Ya could have gone with him, T'Pol."

"My place is here, Ashayam."

He did not query her use of the Vulcan endearment. Did not need to ask what it meant. The bond between them seemed to be getting stronger by the second. He could feel her blood in his veins. Her thoughts lighting a pathway between heart and mind, body and soul. Unaware she had moved, Trip felt her lips on his and closed his eyes. His mouth parted to let her explore, his heart opened to receive her. His mind celebrating an embrace of the spirit that drove the baser instincts back to the primordial sludge from which life had formed. Her desire to meld with him was almost overpowering yet T'Pol resisted. Not now. Not yet. But soon. Her promise caressed his senses and lapped at the shores of his want and need. Her burning desire resisted the need to swamp him and immerse them both in the throes of passion.

They broke apart as if by mutual consent not a word spoken. A simple look sealed the bargain then the fire in their eyes abated. They moved apart and turned to face the door just as it swished open and let Lt Reed and Travis enter with the doctor, moving quickly to the biobed next to Trip's and transferring the doctor from the stretcher to the bed. Trip wanted to get off his bed but T'Pol gave a tiny shake of her head and he stilled his movements. Travis gave them a curious look then gave all his attention to Dr Phlox, the worry on his face deepening. The doctor looked terrible, his bloated body showing discolouration as if it was decomposing only there was no smell of putrefaction and none of his flesh had ruptured.

Travis looked up into Malcolm's face. "What happened to him?"

"The Zenari." A voice mumbled.

Startled, Travis looked down at the doctor and watched his eyelids slowly flutter open to hold him in their alien regard. The multiple retinas staring up at him with the belying innocence of a babe. It was disconcerting that a man so close to death could still function. Of all things, the doctor looked amused.

"I am not going to die, Ensign."

Travis looked shocked then stunned. Was he really that transparent?

"Yeah, ya are." Said the Commander.

Startled, Travis turned his head to stare at the Chief Engineer. Trip was sitting up, his legs dangling off the side of the bed but making no effort to stand. While T'Pol was not restraining him or touching him, she seemed to have some kind of control over him that was almost creepy. And since when could Trip read his mind? Travis was not sure he wanted to take that line of thought any further. The Commander hid a smile and resisted the urge to squeeze T'Pol's hand.

Lt Reed turned to Ensign Cutler. "Can you help him, Ensign?"

He watched a myriad mix of emotions flicker fleetingly across her anxious face then Dr Phlox turned his gaze on her and his tone took on the jovial bent that was so much a part of the man's character that its' absence would have haunted them like the echo of a missing limb. "Exsanguination of excessive bodily fluids would be a start, Ensign."

His eyes were twinkling. How was that possible? Travis stared, confused but also heartened by the doctor's banter. He felt as if he were slowing spiralling into madness. Since when did Chief Engineers fall forty feet from a ceiling onto a marble floor and survive with not a bone broken? And speaking of bones, if the Denobulan's bones had been liquified how was it possible that he was even conscious let alone still alive? There was nothing about this whole rollercoaster of impossible events that made sense to him except one. They had an enemy that was vastly superior to them in technology, mental abilities and who knew what else. Yet. Impossible as it seemed they were somehow holding their own. He wanted to shake his head and pinch himself but another part of him, a part that was growing stronger by the minute, stayed his hand--wanting to see how things would play out. If this was a dream he wanted to see how it ended. If it was a nightmare he knew it was already too late.

***

The whirls of subtle energies seemed unaffected by the notion of flesh, bone, blood, tissues. As if the pores in his skin were vast portals allowing access to every part of his body. The only blessing was that it did not hurt but it did creep him out to the power of ten. He still could not move his arms from the rests. The inlays of iron provided an odd counterpoint to the stark alabaster colour of the chair. His head lolled back and found a resting place in the design that kept his eyes facing forward almost in line with that of the reptillian Captain. He was pretty sure he had not been drugged yet his mind most certainly was not his own. That was when he felt it. The sliding sensation of something alien moving around inside his head. His thoughts being rifled through like a thief going through a filing cabinet. The realisation was like having a sudden bright light illuminating him with piercing precision.

"Oh God, you're in my head! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD!"

The Chancellor looked smug. There was no other word for it. The reptillian Captain watched him with emotionless calm. It was as if they were waiting for something.

"Look," Captain Archer was panting now. Trying to keep his voice steady and manage the rising tide of panic but it was like trying to hold back a tsunami building in a vast ocean and making its' implaccable way across the rolling waves towards him. He was pinned. Not by phyiscal means but by fear. He was not ashamed to admit that right now a heart attack would have seemed like the cavalry but the weakness lasted only a minute then his resolve stiffened. He could not afford to consider capitulation especially as his entire species would have to pay the price. "What is it you want from me? I've told you the truth."

They said nothing. The silence unnerving. Captain Archer wet his lips, it was the only real movement he could control. The rest of his body he was aware of but unable to command. He felt his muscle groups activate individually and frowned. Watched the muscles bunch first in his left arm then his left hand flexed open. The fingers unrolling one by one then bunching back into a fist before unfolding to lie open and acquiessent on the arm of the chair. The hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle. Oh God, what was happening to him? The same thing happened to his other arm, then the muscles in his neck and chest and all down his torso to his legs. He was trembling hard now, fear running rampant and making his heart beat so frantically it was like an animal throwing itself against the bars of the cage that confined him. A lull in sensations gave him time to recover but not enough to be ready for the tiny muscle spasms in his face, then that odd tickling sensation in his brain as if something with sharp needlepoint teeth was crawling through his brain. He gritted his teeth, wanted to scream, but he was damned if he would give the Xindi that satisfaction. He spoke through gritted teeth. "What do you WANT?"

Then the nightmare grew another head. The voice of it echoing like his doom inside his skull. All his defences breached. Nothing left sacred not even his own fear. "We have what we want, Archer."

"Who are you?"

"The last sentient lifeform you will be aware of as we strip your brain and lead you to oblivion."

"You're Xindi?"

He felt a cold humour mock him as if he were some dull-witted child, the chill of it freezing his brain and making him shudder with revulsion. "Not Xindi."

For a moment he was confused. Then the full import of his situation hit him and his heart quailed. *Oh God* "You're Zenari!"

At that point of realisation something sharp, cold and pitiless slid into his brain and turned out all the lights.


	18. In Absentia

Personally Trip thought Dr Phlox looked like shit yet the Denobulan's eyes were calm. He looked almost peaceful which was incongruous given the circumstances. They did not have more than a couple of hours before Ensign Cutler came off her rest period and returned to sickbay. Any attempt to keep her out would have raised more suspicions than they wanted right now. Sub-Commander T'Pol and Ensign Mayweather watched in silence, neither knowing what it was the doctor wanted to discuss with the Chief Engineer. Travis was surprised he had been allowed to stay.

"If ya want me to perform neurosurgery I'm afraid it's not my speciality, doc."

Dr Phlox smiled. "No, nothing like that Commander."

Trip tilted his head. "If ya don't my sayin' you look pretty good for a man without a skeleton."

Travis felt his heart miss a beat but Dr Phlox was laughing lightly, seemingly not in the least offended. "My skeleton is just fine, Trip."

The use of his nickname made the engineer smile. "Well if I can survive a forty foot fall and recover from a broken back then I suppose you can resolidify melted bones."

That made the doctor laugh harder. Until he wheezed painfully. Sub-Commander T'Pol put a light hand on his shoulder, her eyes darkening with concern. "Do not exert yourself, doctor."

"It's quite alright Sub-Commander. We need to tell him anyway."

Trip frowned. "Tell me what? An' where's Malcolm?"

"Lt Reed is trying to establish what has happened to the Captain." Said T'Pol.

"We know what happened to the Cap'n, T'Pol. Those stinkin' Xindi abducted him!"

"Not entirely true, Commander." Said the doctor, reverting gently to the use of his rank almost in faint admonishment. Trip felt confused.

"Why's that?"

"The Xindi are being manipulated by the Zenari and the Zenari are controlling the Captain."

The blood began to drain out of Trip's face. He leaned back on a biobed and tried to steady his heartrate. "How much have I missed?"

"Just the formative years." Quipped Dr Phlox, unable to surpress a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"What happened to your bones?" Asked Travis, unable to keep his curiosity at bay a moment longer.

Trip and T'Pol exchanged a look. Dr Phlox resisted the Human urge to sigh. "Ensign Cutler exsanguinated the excess body fluids but kept the residue. As you may have already noticed the bruising is already beginning to vanish."

The Commander was still frowning. "I noticed but I don't have a clue what in hell is goin' on."

"They were playing with me, Trip. Much as they did with you only they hoped to break me."

"Break you? Why?"

To his surprise it was T'Pol who answered. "They think the doctor is a spy."

"Spy?" Said Travis. "Why would they think Dr Phlox is a spy?"

For a moment there was silence then the doctor answered quietly. "Because I am."

Travis and Trip stared at him, mouths agape. Only the Sub-Commander did not look surprised. "Would ya care to explain that fun little comment, doc?"

"I did not come into this project by accident, Trip. Neither did T'Pol. Some of our most sensitve work deals with this area of expertise..."

"Which is?" Prompted an increasingly frustated Commander.

T'Pol answered. "Time travel."

Trip's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. He was not sure if he wanted to laugh his ass off or choke. "But ya don't believe in time travel!"

Keeping her face expressionless she responded in a flat calm voice. "The Vulcan High Command have determined that there is no such thing as time travel."

She knew she was confusing him. "Exactly."

T'Pol kept her eyes fastened on the Chief Engineer. They could have been the only two people in the room. "I have never stated that I do not believe in time travel."

"Yes ya have, several times."

"You are mistaken, Commander. Whenever the issue has been raised I have merely stated the official position of the Vulcan High Command."

"Kind'a splittin' hairs aren't ya, T'Pol?" When she did not answer he tried another tack. "Are ya sayin' ya don't hold that opinion now?"

"Unofficially I do not *believe* in time travel. I *know* it to be fact."

Trip was almost too stunned to evince shock. "I don't understand."

"When the Vulcans made first contact with the Zenari almost a hundred years ago they realised their error too late to save themselves. They sought to flee the inevitable."

"T'Pol, you've lost me."

Travis felt just as lost, his brow furrowed, his look intent. But not for a shipful of gold would he have interrupted. This was one story he could not wait to hear.

"The Zenari terraform minds, Commander."

"I know, ya said that before."

She nodded, her look as grave as he had ever seen it. "They also like to experiment. Manipulate species. That is why you were immobilised and tricked into thinking your back was broken. It is also why the doctor felt as if all his bones had been liquified. The subconscious manipulation so artful and intense that the body began to produce extra fluids. To in effect break down."

He was not sure but thought he might be sick if she got any more graphic. "Where ya goin' with this, T'Pol?"

"They fled but they did not escape." She paused and when he did not respond she prompted him with a clarification. "The Vulcans."

Trip felt a slither of ice begin to slid down his back in apprehension. He had to ask even though he was dreading the answer. "Where'd they go?"

"The Zenari sent then *back* in time."

The Ensign tried to remember to breathe. "That's impossible..." He muttered.

"Ya mean...?"

She nodded. "Yes. To infect the madness they had engineered in the rest of the Vulcan race. It was an effort to destabilise our species in the hope that we would turn on each other and destroy ourselves."

Commander Tucker shook his head slowly. "It doesn't make sense, T'Pol. If that's true then the Vulcan High Command, the Vulcan Science Directorate and the rest of the Vulcan intelligensia already *know* that time travel is possible."

"Only the upper echelons and they are in denial, Commander. Fearing what would happen if our people discovered the truth."

He took a moment to consider the ramifications. "Is that why ya were so reluctant to admit the Vulcan relationship to the Romulans?"

T'Pol gracefully inclined her head. "The Delphic Expanse has many peculiar properties."

"Care to be more specific?"

Dr Phlox spoke up. "It is like a spider's web, Trip."

"That is a good analogy so far as it goes," Agreed T'Pol. "But it is not even, not uniform. The Expanse flexes and alters according to the way it is used. When the Vulcan ship *fled* a portal was opened in the web. Time was flexed. They thought they were escaping and the Zenari encouraged that belief."

"Oh my God, they were playin' with 'em." He paused and took a deep breath, his eyes showing a deepening concern. He glanced from T'Pol to the doctor then back again. "We're not gettin' outta here are we?" Another thought occurred to him before she could answer. "Why did ya insist on comin' with us, T'Pol, when you knew this was a one way trip?"

"Because I know the truth about time travel. Myself and Dr Phlox have been working on the problem for some time, Trip."

He was silent. All the wind in his sails had vanished. He felt as if any moment now he would be sucking vacuum. Travis knew how he felt.

"We came up with a plan." Said the doctor calmly as if tendering an olive branch.

The Chief Engineer looked dazed. "Plan? Why the hell couldn't ya have told us? Or does givin' me a heart attack pass for entertainment where ya come from?"

T'Pol tried to explain. "The Zenari are masters of manipulation, Trip. They terraform minds."

He was getting more than a little frustrated and annoyed with the circular content of the conversation. "Tell me somethin' I *don't* already know!"

The Vulcan was surprisingly calm and patient. "Human minds are weak. Fertile soil."

Trip frowned. "I think I resent that."

"Nevertheless it is true. Had we confided in you the Zenari would have found out. They would have simply plucked the information out of your minds without you knowing it."

"What about you? What's to stop them doin' the same thing to you an' Dr Phlox?"

"We are not Human. I have learnt many advanced disciplines, Trip. Some were specifically embraced with this threat in mind. I can reach a number of states through meditation one of which is particularly useful for the secretion of sensitive material."

A slow smile curved the engineer's lips. Ah. A light at the end of the tunnel. "Ya mean ya found a way to hide it?"

"Exactly."

Trip looked from T'Pol to Dr Phlox. Travis had sat down but was listening intently. The Commander did not think they would be able to prise him out of sickbay with a crowbar. He resisted the urge to smile and forced himself to concentrate. He turned his attention back to T'Pol and the doc. "Is that what the doc does?"

"No. Denobulans can compartmentalise. They can disassociate part of their brain frunctions so that what is going on in one part of the brain is shut off from another part."

"How does that work?" Asked Travis.

T'Pol glanced at the boomer. It was a good question and had been on the tip of Commander Tucker's tongue only Travis had beaten him to it. "The ability to induce hibernation at will is one example. Ordering the autonomic responses is another as is the individualisation of thought processes and their subsequent compartmentalisation."

"You're talkin' about pigeon holes." Said Trip.

She frowned. "I do not understand that term of reference."

He could feel the inexorable stir of excitement as he began to understand but muted it for her sake. Didn't want to drown her in his Neanderthal emotions. "Humans have a term for mentally sortin' things into separate groupin's, it's called pigeon holin'. It's simply a way of puttin' certain information together. Nothin' as sophisticated as the doc's compartmentalisation or your altered states but it means I follow what you're sayin'." Another thought occured to the Commander. "T'Pol, when I was trapped with Malcolm and Dr Phlox the doc said he'd known ya for nearly 20 years."

She inclined her head but said nothing.

"He said he's trained for this, implyin' that his place on board Enterprise was pre-planned an' not by Starfleet."

"The doctor has worked for the Vulcan Science Directorate for some years, Trip."

The dime dropped inside his head with a clang. "As have you." There was a long silence. "Holy shit! How far back does this little secret go?" No one spoke. His voice became quieter and somehow more intimate. "Why all the secrets T'Pol? I thought we were friends."

The Vulcan's eyes softened slightly. Trip was mesmerised as a hand rose seemingly of its' own volition and gently touched his face. "Because we *are* friends." She paused for a heartbeat, her voice dropping so low that it almost sounded husky to his ear. It was doubtful that anyone else heard what she said next. "It was the only way to protect you."

Stunned he just stared at her, trying to still the rapid beat of his heart as she moved back again. Surely she could not mean him? Trip Tucker? She must be referring to the Human Race. After all they had only known each other during their time aboard Enterprise. So why did this feel so much more personal? And why did he think that what T'Pol left unsaid would fill every library on Earth and leave not a tree standing?

***

He could feel the descent into Hell as surely as he knew his own name but the darkness was now a stationary thing. The pit of Hell gave volume to its' anger and debauchery tearing at his fragile eardrums and pulling a fear out of him that was primeval. What was happening to him? Was he dead? Dying? Or maybe he was incarcerated in the equivalent on the Xindi homeworld? Or should that be the Zenari homeworld? He was confused and slowly the fear receded a little while he struggled for understanding. None of this made any sense. Then he felt it, wriggling its' insidious way deeper and deeper inside his brain.

Captain Jonathan Archer was not a screamer but the intrusion sparked off every horror he had ever imagined then multiplied it to infinity. He felt something sliding around inside his brain, playing with his subconscious but in a way designed to allow him a ringside seat. To make sure he missed nothing. These people were not just accomplished and clinical in their machinations, they were insane. He struggled to grasp something that had been said before he lost consciousness. Slowly memory surfaced, tattered and fragmented but still recognisably consisting of his own thoughts. Or were they? He pushed that unsettling notion away. He had to be focused. Strong. Anything else was another step on the road to death and destruction.

***

Ensign Sato was glad to see Lt Reed but he seemed distracted. She longed to question him as Rostov gave up his position to allow the Armoury Officer to work. Rostov did not leave the bridge, some instinct rooting him to the spot while he watched in silence and waited. What for, he did not know. Malcolm seemed oblivious to him and the rest of the bridge crew. Hoshi stood it for as long as she could then had to speak. "What's happening, sir?"

He did not raise his head or look across at her. His eyes glued to the screen at his work station while his fingers flew across the controls. "Have you had any further contact from the Xindi or the Zenari?"

She shook her head. "No, sir."

He mumbled something under his breath that she could not make out. The lack of information was killing her but trying to get him to open up in front of the others would be worse than useless. He might think he could not confide in her and she did not want that. *Come on Malcolm, give me something*. She heard a frustrated sigh flutter from his lips then he looked up. "Damn."

It was softly spoken but unmistakable in the charged silence. He seemed to realise every eye was on him and took a couple of deep breaths. "Rostov."

"Yes, sir?"

"Come with me to the transporter room."

There was a worried look on Hoshi's face now. "Sir? You're not going to beam across to the Xindi ship, are you?"

He shook his head and almost smiled at the alarm on her face. "No Ensign, but I am going to try to get a better fix on the Captain's biosigns."

"And if he is no longer on the ship?"

She could have bit her tongue at the change in his expression though he masked it quickly enough. "Then we do what we can to find out where they've taken him. This ship is going nowhere without its' Captain is that understood, Ensign?"

Hoshi nodded numbly and wanted to kick herself. *Way to go, Hoshi. Now he'll definitely want to bring you into the magic circle*.

Something in her downcast look must have struck home because he gave a small half smile like a peace offering. "Don't worry, we'll get the Captain back."

Then he was striding off the bridge with Rostov and as the door hissed shut behind them Hoshi checked her watch. Twenty minutes until her relief was due. Then she intended to find out what was happening and demand they let her help. They were missing something basic, something fundamental, she was sure of it. But what could it be?

***

Ensign Liz Cutler knew something was off. The feeling intensified when she reached sickbay as everyone clammed up the minute she stepped through the door. She frowned and went to check on Dr Phlox pleased to see that he looked a lot happier and was regaining some of his colour. Much of the bruising had died down and the bloated nature of his body had been reduced by her earlier treatment. She just wished she could be as sure that he was healing as well on the inside. He beamed at her as she reached his side and Trip smiled to himself as a flush crept up her face and neck.

Trip suddenly felt very tired. When he turned his head it was to see T'Pol watching him closely. It was at that point that Travis remembered something only he could not speak freely in front of Ensign Cutler. Noticing his expression Trip took the initiative. "I think we should leave Ensign Cutler to see to the doc. We'll come back later to see how you're doin'."

Dr Phlox just nodded, the small hand on his chest pressing him back producing a wider smile this time. Obediently he lay down and let the Ensign check him over. Once they were in the corridor Trip decided to play it safe and talk in his quarters. They walked in silence and only when the Commander had shut his door behind them did they relax. Trip turned to Travis. "Okay Travis, spit it out."

"It was something Hoshi said about the Zenari and the Xindi, linking their languages together and showing a common link."

T'Pol did not look surprised. "They have been allies for centuries."

"Yeah but Hoshi implied it was more than that."

The Commander and Sub-Commander exchanged a look. "What do ya mean?"

He took a deep breath. "She thinks the Zenari are some kind of ancestors of the Xindi."

Trip shook his head. "Nah, they're nothin' alike. The Zenari have the whole energy thing goin' and from what we could see there's just the one species, no off-shoots of the family tree."

"Not now." Agreed Travis.

He had their undivided attention. Sub-Commander T'Pol gave him a keen look. "What do you mean?"

"I think Hoshi would explain this better than me."

A pause followed then Trip huffed out a breath. "He's right, T'Pol. An' maybe it's about time we started lettin' a few more people know what's goin' on."

The Sub-Commander considered his words. "Very well. Travis ask Hoshi to come to Commander Tucker's quarters."

He nodded and quickly departed. T'Pol flicked her eyes from the closing door to the man standing weary and troubled in the centre of the room. He looked... fragile. Something stirred inside her and she took a step towards him. His eyes had closed, now they fluttered open as if sensing her drawing near.

"Are you well, Trip?"

"Feel a little light headed but other than that..."

She closed the distance between them and touched his hand. He held his breath, hoping to keep the headache at bay so he could drink her in without any distraction. She must have seen the slight wince on his face as the pain pierced him behind his eyeballs. A cool hand touched his brow, warm breath fanning his face with the sweetness of her scent. Something uniquely exotic and one hundred per cent T'Pol. "You need to rest, Ashayam."

"I'll rest once we get the Cap'n back."

Her hand drifted down to cup the side of his face, the temptation to go further almost too strong to deny. "And if we do not?" She whispered, her fingers stroking the side of his face in time to the catch in his throat.

"Can't think like that, T'Pol. We're gonna get Jon back, we have to."

Her lips robbed him of any other words before he could form them, his hands automatically framing her narrow waist and drawing her in close to him as the kiss deepened. Once their lips touched it was as if he were being slowly electrocuted, delicious sparks flying up his veins and shivering through his nervous system setting him on fire. *Oh God, T'Pol. I need ya so much*

They pulled away reluctantly as if by mutual consent. T'Pol took his hand and kissed the palm, the look in her eyes saying they would continue this later. Then the door chime rang and they turned as Travis and Hoshi joined them. Trip saw the excitement sparking in eyes bright with intelligence as Hoshi stepped into the room and felt his spirits lift with anticipation. Captain Archer had not picked her for Enterprise just because she was pretty or because she was a friend. He had picked her because she had the best ear in Starfleet. Trip just hoped it had picked up something that could be used in this unequal fight. Because unless they could find an edge they were literally standing at the twilight of the Human Race.


	19. Red In Tooth And Claw

Ensign Hoshi Sato felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Everyone looked so focused and tense. What if she was wrong? It was the Sub-Commander who broke her reverie cutting through the build up of nerves. "Ensign, I believe you have a theory?"

She nodded. They were in sickbay. An odd place to have a meeting but given the fact that Dr Phlox was still being assessed it was not perhaps so surprising. There was no sign of Lt Reed and Hoshi bit back her feeling of disappointment. She had been looking forward to his reaction to her idea. Commander Tucker gave her a reassuring smile. Dr Phlox was sitting up on a biobed looking expectently at her. Travis Mayweather just had a great big grin plastered on his face. She felt her tension ease just looking at him, a smile teasing her lips and helping her control her butterflies. "It was the language root that gave me the first clue. The Zenari have many parallel language stems but one root. One common ancestor that links the various off-shoots, like dialects but more structured."

Trip was frowning. "What d'ya mean more structured?"

She grinned. "No offence Commander but your use of vocabulary is unstructured. The Zenari have a rigidity that makes their language more like a mathematical formula."

"Huh, sounds borin' if ya ask me."

The Sub-Commander was looking at Hoshi with intent interest. "On the contrary, Commander. A structured language like a structured mind is an elegant thing."

His eyebrows rose but he resisted the urge to make a facetious quip. Travis looked like he wanted to burst out laughing but did not want to incur the Wrath of T'Pol. Dr Phlox beamed. "Please, Ensign, continue."

"When I was examining the Xindi language I noticed they have similar parallel language stems."

"Ya mean they speak Zenari?"

She shook her head. "No, Commander, though the two languages are similar enough that they can easily converse in either tongue. They have the same kind of organised structure to their language with the stems showing at least seven different parallels. The Zenari have significantly more though I haven't been able to work out why."

Sub-Commander T'Pol tilted her head slightly. Trip recognised it as a thoughtful look. A focus of intense concentration somehow leaking through her calm mask. "If they are not the same how do you come to the conclusion that the two species are related?"

Hoshi shook her head. "I didn't say they were related, Sub-Commander."

Trip glanced at Travis but said nothing. Sub-Commander T'Pol raised a questioning eyebrow at their communications expert. "Explain your theory."

"The way the two species structure their language is uncanny, as if one provided the blueprint for the other hence the possibility that they share a common ancestry."

Dr Phlox looked impressed. "Excellent work, Ensign!" He beamed at her. Travis and Trip stared at the doctor then exchanged a bemused glance. Something occurred to the Sub-Commander.

"Ensign, which of the two species predates the other?"

It was obvious, it was the Zenari. So why was the Vulcan asking her? What was she trying to intimate? "The Zenari, Sub-Commander. Their species is at least a thousand years old. Maybe thousands of years."

"And the Xindi?"

Everyone forgot to breathe. Hoshi hesitated just a fraction. "If I was to make an educated guess, Sub-Commander, I would say the Xindi are five or six centuries old."

Trip's mouth flapped open and shut a couple of times before he found the words to say what was going through his mind. "How the hell can ya say that, Hoshi? Ya said they were both structured, shared a lotta similarites. Surely if they were so apart time-wise they wouldn't be so similar?"

"That's what makes this so interesting, sir. It's as if the Xindi learnt their language wholesale from another species. Adopted and adapted it for their own use."

Something tugged at the Commander's memory. "Zenari terraform minds." He murmured. His eyes brightening in realisation. "Oh my God, you're sayin' the Zenari terraformed the Xindi mindset aren't ya?"

Hoshi beamed at him, as happy as Travis had ever seen her. Travis blinked. "You're not saying the Zenari are Xindi ancestors?"

"No, Travis, they are definitely two different and distinct species but they are linked by language. And in a way that is more intimate that the casual cross contamination of cultures mixing in trade."

"More intimate?" Said Trip.

The Ensign nodded. "Yes, sir. It's like a child attending the class of a gifted innovative teacher and being so impressed and absorbed that the child adopts the ideas and mannerisms of the teacher for their own. Only in this case the child was a whole species and the teacher was an advanced and manipulative race of beings so technologically advanced by comparrison that the Xindi were in awe of them."

Commander Tucker frowned slightly at her. "In awe?"

"Yes." The Ensign paused a moment, suddenly feeling a return of her previous nerves. She steadied her resolve. "You do not copy and follow those you do not admire, Commander."

Just then they were interrupted by an urgent call from Lt Reed. Sub-Commander T'Pol responded immediately. "Lieutenant, what is the matter?"

His voice sounded strained. Upset. "Sub-Commander, can you please come to the transporter room as quickly as possible? And if Dr Phlox is able can you bring him with you?"

They exchanged worried glances. "We are on our way, Lieutenant."

The Sub-Commander gave a nod and briskly walked out, Trip and Travis helping the good doctor to get to his feet. Once upright he was able to steady himself and walk unaided. Travis leaned in close to Hoshi and congratulated her on her theory. Trip smiled at her and echoed his praise, the Ensign's ears ringing as her face flushed with pleasure at the compliments. Then they were hurrying off after the Sub-Commander and doctor, all thoughts deflected. Wondering what Lt Reed was so anxious about.

***

Ambassador Chot stood in the Grand Audience Chamber on Zeon, the cold clear calm of the vaulted room echoing centuries of service and benediction. He stood patiently before the dias. Time stood in its' cradle and waited on him and he waited on the hand that wound the celestial clock and kept all systems in their orbits. Space was a fabric that could be navigated or manipulated. The Expanse an invisible interface that flexed and altered its' many facetted face in the blink of a Human eye. Time. So readily accepted. So misunderstood.

He felt the air change in subtle increments and bowed low, sensing and tasting the build up of power as a diaphanous shape coalesced in a swirl of shadow that deepened and solidified in a column before him. He felt a hand form above his head, the crackle of energy flashing through him like lightening rods. His dark cloak flickered with the odd light, his form exulting in the gift. Pleasure coursed through him. "Where is their Captain?"

"The Xindi have him, Master."

He felt approval, more power flowing into him like a sigh of utmost gratification. "They will not continue without him."

The Ambassador could do nought but agree for he had seen into the Human hearts and weak and feeble as they were an understanding of loyalty bound them in an unexpected strength. They would use that strength against them. "No Master, it is their greatest weakness."

"And the Vulcan?"

"Steadfast and loyal to this inferior species, Master."

"You mentioned a spy?"

A tremble of light betrayed the Ambassador's sense of failure. "He escaped."

The aura of the Presence became a dark aspect not in colour but intent. Almost the Ambassador quailed. A word of disapproval would unmake him. "Where is he?"

"Back on the Human ship."

"What of their shades?"

"The Humans destroyed them but they have been reclaimed. Even ashes favour the phoenix."

A long silence fell like a cloak between them. The Ambassador felt the weight of his Master's thoughts. Cried out inside to serve him. Willing to unmake himself for the pleasure of a single admission of grace. "I sense the Xindi faltering."

The Ambassador so rarely felt shock that he savoured the strange emotion before accepting it. "They know what must be done, Master."

"Yet they waver."

"Shall I go among them?"

Silence again stretched, this time the quality of it was not uniform. Like vaporous hands they clawed at him and sent icy tendrils of light washing their cold comfort through his being. He neither accepted nor rejected it. "You must not be seen with them. The Humans think they can effect a rescue."

He sounded amused. The Ambassador shared the joke. Loving the taste of the dark energy flickering between them in intimate accord.

"Let the Human return."

Another bigger shock reverberated through the Ambassador like a form of electrocution. "Master?"

He felt the darkened spirit touch his and the power slide slickly through his soul, touching him with the Master's intent. "It is what they want." Said the Presence softly, the voice a hideous caress. "*This* is what you must do..."

Images flashed inside the Ambassador's brain. His aide, Kantak, watched in respectful silence. Standing far enough away so as not to impinge on the transferrence of power. He had not yet earnt the right to share the Ambassador's intimacy with the Divine. Yet, as dark fires swirled before his thirsting eyes he ached, he yearned, and he desired to taste of its' fire. To burn with the power of the Presence. It was what they lived for. Were created to embrace and serve. Patiently he waited as the Presence consumed the Ambassador and remade him in the ashes that burned so brightly that every image of joy was expounded beyond the fashion of his intellect. Every descriptive phrase failing to come even close to imagining such awesome clarity. When it was finished the Ambassador was as he had always been but the power within him was tenfold. The lurking flicker of light seemed to flare in the folds of his heavy velvet cloak as movement brushed the hem across the cold polished floor. The light absorbed within him as he moved. The shadows retreating from their corners as he left the Chamber. Kantak following at a respectful distance in even more awe than he had been before.

***

When they reached the transporter room Commander Tucker was surprised to see Lt Reed standing outside waiting for them. He looked more than just upset. He looked shaken. Dr Phlox's smile vanished, his bright eyes taking in everything and missing nothing. "What has happened?"

Lt Reed licked his lips, unhappy to see Hoshi with them. Funnily enough he accepted the Sub-Commander as an equal in anything they might have to do or face but he felt protective of the Ensign. Her gentle spirit did not need to witness this. "I did ask for just yourself and the doctor." Said the Armoury Officer almost nervously.

Sub-Commander T'Pol raised an eyebrow but it was Trip who spoke first. "What's up, Lieutenant? Ya look like ya seen a ghost."

"Believe me I wish I had."

Trip blinked. *Uh oh, this was bad*.

"Lieutenant," Said the Sub-Commander in a calm, quiet voice. "What have you discovered?"

"I was trying to find a way to boost the Captain's signal so I could trace him. I was more successful than I could have dreamed..."

As his voice trailed off the Commander's eyes narrowed. Suddenly Malcolm could not meet Trips' eyes.

"If you boosted the Captain's signal that's good, isn't it?" Offered Hoshi.

If anything the Armoury Officer paled still further and there had not been a lot of colour in his face to start with. He looked at the doctor. "The signal was so strong," He said softly, his voice aching and barely audible. "I decided to use the transporter."

Trip felt his heart miss a beat. "What?"

Dr Phlox ignored the Commander, his eyes fixed on Lt Reed. Instinctively knowing it was costing the Englishman a lot to tell them what had happened. "I take it the transport was not entirely successful, Lieutenant?"

Lt Reed swallowed heavily. "No, doctor. It wasn't successful at all."

For a moment there was a stunned silence. Trip could not believe what he was hearing. "What are ya sayin'? Where's the Cap'n?"

He inclined his head towards the transporter room behind him. The door still closed. "In there but..."

He never got to finish his warning. Trip activated the door and stepped through before he took in the sight that greeted him. Shock rooted him to the spot. Rostov's pale sickly face staring at him with eyes so round and glassy that the horror seemed underlined. His breath caught and he gagged, the ruby red pulp still dripping off the transporter pad and staining his eyes with grief. Trip turned his head and was prompty sick, his eyes stinging with tears, his heart breaking with sorrow. No one could move. No one spoke. In the anguished hush of distressed hearts and minds, each contemplated the utter horror and trauma of losing the Captain.

After what seemed like hours but was in fact only minutes, Dr Phlox moved quietly around the still forms of his distraught Human colleagues, passing the Vulcan's tight mask of shock, to approach the messy coagulating sight before his eyes. Rostov stepped to one side to give him access. The doctor knelt on the periphery of the bloody mess and mentally calculated the amount of mass the residue represented. Certainly it would equate roughly with that of a human being. Sadly he stood up and turned to T'Pol. "I need to return to sickbay and fetch a container."

"What for?" Sneered Commander Tucker in angry distress, looking up with tear stained eyes. "Look at him! Look what those bastards did to him!"

T'Pol looked at the Commander with concern but all Trip could see was the remains of the best friend he had ever had. A man who was friend and brother, confidante and cheer leader all rolled into one. A man he loved and respected above all others. A man he would gladly lay down his life for and not count the cost. A man who deserved better than this. Before anyone could respond he turned and stalked out. No one moving to stop him. Hoshi turned her face away, tears rolling down her silent face, Travis automatically putting his arms around her to comfort her as she buried her head in his shoulder and gave herself up to her grief.

Sub-Commander T'Pol looked at the doctor. "Do what you can to collect the remains doctor. I want a full report on exactly what you find."

Lt Reed was about to ask her why bother then got a good look at her face. Something hard and implacable in those dark alien depths held him momentarily in thrall. He could not quite identify the emotion. Emotion? T'Pol? She was a Vulcan. She blinked and he reassessed his assumptions. No. They had emotions just like every other sentient being. They were just used to hiding them but for a moment it seemed as if the mask had slipped and what he saw twisted his gut and made his heart stumble. It was more than simple grief. Some deep emotion that made no sense to him even in the current clime. Then it was gone. Back behind that steel shutter.

***

It was hours later. The whole ship was stunned. People moving about as if afraid to make a noise, as if this great ship had become a graveyard and they must honour the dead. Sub-Commander T'Pol listened in silence as Dr Phlox detailed his findings. Beyond a doubt the blood was Captain Archer's. The residue replete with his DNA. She did not take her eyes off the doctor, his voice calm but steeped in sadness. His eyes telling her how sorry he was yet she detected a slight confusion in the depths of his exotic eyes. Lt Reed stood ramrod straight beside her. Unbending and as rigid as a steel girder. No one else was in sickbay. Travis had taken Hoshi back to her quarters and elected to stay with her for a while to make sure she was alright. Rostov had been stood down. Dr Phlox had offered to give him something to help him sleep but he had refused. His expression tense but determined. He did not want his senses dulled by any drug just in case this was only the beginning of what they could expect from here on.

A team had been sent to clean up the transporter room and slowly the crew went about their tasks in a muted if orderly fashion. T'Pol felt drained. It was well past the end of her shift and now it was time to take what little rest she could before the next day's duty loomed. First though she had something she needed to do. With sadness in her heart she made her way to Commander Tucker's quarters. Paused at his door then did the unforgivable and entered the over ride code. As the door swished open she stepped inside knowing she was invading his privacy but she did not dare to take the chance that he would deliberately deny her entry. He was upset, in emotional pain and she needed to be with him. The lights were off. The Sub-Commander took a few moments to let her eyes adjust, a little muted light from the bedside clock allowing her to slowly make out the Commander's form as he lay face down on his bed, his head buried in his crossed arms. She could tell he was crying though he made no sound.

Quietly T'Pol went to him, knelt on the floor beside his bed and place a hand on the back of his neck. Her voice so soft and quiet that had her lips not been inches from his ear the puffs of breath would not have resolved into recognisable words. "Ashayam, it is I."

His muffled voice pained her for he was hurting so deeply she ached to heal him. To absorb the ragged edge of his grief. "Not up to company, T'Pol."

She bent her head and kissed the back of his neck gently, her lips brushing his nape. Surprised he turned his tear stained head and stared at her. What he saw in her eyes made his breath catch, his heart aching with love for her. "T'Pol I..."

She hushed him with a light touch of fingertips against his mouth, then gently cupped his face between her hands and stared deep into his eyes. Saw all his hurts, all his sorrow and pain and wrapped her caring around each and every one of them, her love shining so brightly and gently that he had no defence. Tears spilled from red rimmed eyes. She kissed them as they fell like broken stars shattering against his cheek, her hands cradling him as he cried. Then he was in her arms, face buried in her neck, her arms holding him close to her heart and rocking him as his heart broke. A great wash of emotion lapped her shores, his overloaded grief gushing out of him into her healing embrace. How long she held him neither knew nor cared. Slowly the tears stilled, he became aware of her warmth and took comfort from her touch. Head turning so he could trail tender kisses along the column of her neck, his hands stirring to brush a cheek as he pulled back to look into her beautiful eyes.

"I can't believe he's gone, T'Pol."

She hushed him with a kiss as his voice cracked. He kissed her back. A gentle parting of lips, an exchange and merging of need. Not desire. Not hunger. Just comfort. They spoke quietly, their kisses becoming more frequent and deeper. Hands blessing flesh, fingers deftly removing confining cloth and allowing them to drown their grief and sorrow in the one union they had craved for so long but held in abeyance. It seemed so natural, a destiny that could no longer be denied by any duty but the one they owed to one another. Trip sighed in her mouth as her fingers trailed down his chest, lightly teasing and stroking him all the way down. Her breasts rubbing against his chest, his fingers teasing her nipples into hard little pyramids of desire that strained for his touch just as he trembled and arched into the stroking caress of her gifted hands.

"T'Pol, you're crucifyin' me here, darlin'."

He felt those plush lips curve against his. "I can stop if you prefer, Ashayam."

"Do that an' ya really will kill me."

She deepened the kiss. He slid a hand down to delve into her moist heat picking up the rythym of her hand on his hardening shaft. Sliding his foreskin up and down that adamantine shaft as she gently squeezed and coaxed him until he was so hard that the blood throbbed hot and rampant between her fingers.

"Oh God, T'Pol..."

She swallowed his groan and while working him with one hand raised the other to gently settle against the left side of his face, her fingertips stretching to seek out the pulse points. Her mind invading his so sweetly, heightening the sensations building between them as he opened up to her. Their touch electric. Swapping saliva as their hands on each other brought them higher and higher, his fingers slipping and sliding against her bundle of nerves while she arched into the pleasure of his hand and moaned his name over and over again like a sweet litany as her juices flooded and baptised him. Her tongue sliding against his, her lips drawing him deeper, her hand so confident, the thumb now brushing across his slit and making his cock weep for her as his fingers continued to stroke and rub against her clitoris to build into another orgasm. Her breath was warm, hushed and vibrant with want and need nursing a deepening desire for him. "I want you, Ashayam, need you."

"Anythin' ya want, T'Pol."

She did not give him anything but everything. The mental stimulus of two minds joined in coitus roused him so deeply that the ecstasy was sweet agony. Using all her wiles she timed his orgasm to coincide with hers, their minds amplifying their senses and washing them with a bliss that left them absorbed in one another so deeply that there was no longer any division between them. There was no Human. No Vulcan. No compromising of species or thoughts. Bodies in motion now at rest. Loving arms engraced each other. In the measured aftermath of their initial grief love had found a safe arbour for them. A brief and blessed respite in the chaos of an uncaring universe. Trip gently folded the covers over them and could not find it in his heart to regret this. Weakness or strength was irrelevant. He was the one place he wanted to be. In the arms of the one he loved more than life itself. Even exhausted in grief and passion, he clung to this. A gentle kiss upon her glistening brow. T'Pol looked deep into his eyes and spoke directly into his mind.

 

So exhausted he hardly noticed she was not speaking out loud, he answered her in kind. As he drifted off to sleep in her arms she trailed a light finger over his eyebrows. Traced the outline of his upturned nose, the curve of his lips, papered his face with tender kisses so light that they barely touched his warm glowing skin. She loved him and could feel the bond solidifying between them into something that could not be broken.

Her mind whispered as she snuggled in close to him. Holding him like something precious. As she closed her eyes joy burst quietly in the depths of her heart as his sleeping mind reached out to her and cradled her in a love as deep and passionate as her own.


	20. The Pursuit of Truth

He awoke feeling initially content and boneless then memories cascaded into his waking mind along with the concomittant pain and sorrow. It hit him hard as only true loss could do. He was alone now. Some time while he slept T'Pol had left him. Somehow that felt wrong, like a betrayal of sorts only he was too raw and fragile to want to examine the feeling in detail. Trip rolled on to his back and looked up at his ceiling, holding back the tears with difficulty. He could not forever be crying. For Liz. For Jon. For the whole damn Human Race. That stilled him. The Human Race. He sat up quickly, his focus homing in on the one certain thing he *could* do rather than concentrating on all the things he could not.

Quickly he got up and went to the shower. He still had a couple of hours until his shift would start but that was good. He could use that time. Might need it to convince the others that he was right though why they should need convincing at all was something else he was not up to examining too closely this morning. As he washed and felt some of his tension ease from tight bunched muscles he thought of the task that lay ahead. Of what he wanted to do. First he would marshall support for his actions then he would go and find the Sub-Commander and tell her his decision. After last night she should not be so hard to convince.

Once dried off and dressed he felt much better. He made his way directly to Lt Reed's quarters, hoping the man was in his room and not polishing his Armoury. He was in luck, clipped tones queried who was calling at this unGodly hour. Trip almost smiled.

"Hey, Malcolm, it's me."

He heard the grumpiness in his friend's voice as the door opened. "Does 'me' know what time it is?"

Trip nodded curtly and without waiting to be invited walked past the Lieutenant into his quarters. Malcolm blinked.

"Do let yourself in." He said sarcastically but the edge was blunted by curiosity as the door slid closed behind him. "Trip? Is something wrong?"

The Commander turned, his anguished eyes flattened with pain but sparked with determination. His lips a thin unforgiving line. "Yeah, Jon's dead and we're just sittin' here doin' nothin' about it."

"What do you want us to do?"

Trip stepped into the Lieutenant's personal space and stopped inches from him. "Go after the evil bastards and blast every last one of 'em straight to Hell!"

He saw the sympathy in Malcolm's eyes but also something else rising. Was it regret? "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Commander."

Commander? Trip's eyes narrowed. "Why not? An' why so formal? Ya ain't even dressed."

Lt Reed was oddly gentle. "We are no longer in orbit around the Zenari homeworld."

Shock stunned the Commander into silence. His brain trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "We're not? Then where the hell are we?"

His friend tried to mitigate Trip's anger. "We're following the Xindi ship."

Trip just stared at him. Slowly his anger abated, mollified somewhat by learning that they were not at least simply turning their back on the Xindi threat. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

"You were sleeping. The Sub-Commander thought it best to let you sleep while you could."

Part of him was grateful to T'Pol for her thoughtfulness but another part seethed. She should have told him or was that why she had bedded him? To tire him out so he could not protest? He knew that wasn't true but right now he was not thinking too clearly. His emotions a jumble that he could not quite untangle. But why would she suppose he would have protested? If, that was what she had done. He frowned. He wanted the damn Xindi exterminated. Anything that would bring that day closer would garner his instant support. Hell, he'd set it in gold for her if she wanted. So what was it Malcolm was not telling him?

Trip was quiet for so long that Lt Reed was beginning to feel anxious. Wished T'Pol were here to talk to the Commander. Then again, maybe it was just as well she could not see him in his 007 shorts. He shivered and put a shirt on. "Have you eaten yet?"

Trip just stared at him. "huh?"

"Food, Trip. That sugery substance that passes for a three course meal in your vocabulary. Have you eaten, had breakfast?"

He shook his head. Much calmer now. All anger abated with nowhere to go. "No, when I woke up I came straight here."

Lt Reed looked amused. "Yes, and straight from the shower I see."

At the Commander's quizzical look Malcolm crossed to his own shower, took out a towel and threw it at the Commander.

"You might want to dry your hair, Trip, instead of dripping all over the place. *My* place, I might add."

He looked down at himself sheepishly. It was true. Giving him a smile Malcolm took his shirt off and carefully folded it over the back of his chair. "While you do that I'll take a shower then we'll go and get something to eat together. That okay with you?"

Trip nodded and began to rub his hair. A nod from Malcolm then he disappeared in the shower leaving the Commander alone to think.

***

Dr Phlox gave the Ensign a bemused look. "There really is nothing to tell you."

Liz Cutler pulled a face. "I'm not buying that for a moment, doctor, so you may as well tell me."

He raised his eyebrows and gave her an innocent look. Her eyes narrowed even more suspicious than she had been before.

"Why won't you just tell me?" He noticed the hurt sound in her pleading voice. Felt a stab of guilt for having placed it there but he really could not tell her and that was that. "I saw you when you first came back," Her words broke off, her demeanour shaken a little by a memory that would not go away. She swallowed, steeled herself and continued. He did not want this conversation. Not now. Not ever. But she was blocking the way out of the sickbay and he did not want to push her out of the way. Besides he was really very fond of her. "Your injuries were extensive. I know."

"You were mistaken, Ensign." He said quietly, his voice kindly, his eyes begging her to let it drop.

"Just give me an explanation I can believe." She asked softly.

He paused then forced a smile through his mild mannered lips. "The Sub-Commander has called a briefing in less than twenty minutes. If I am not mistaken you were also requested to attend. I think perhaps we should get some answers then, hmmm?"

For a moment he thought she was going to continue to press him but after a moment something in her crumpled. She nodded and moved aside. "Mind if I come with you?"

His smile beamed. The doctor extended his arm as he had seen Humans do on occasion when they were attempting to be particularly courteous. "I would be honoured."

***

Lt Reed watched Trip demolish a stack of pancakes and tried to stop his stomach churning with disapproval. Pancakes? For breakfast? Inwardly he shook his head. Outwardly he tried not to stare, sipping his tea and waiting for the Commander to finish mopping up the last of the maple syrup. When Trip finished he smacked his lips together in satisfaction and for a moment it was the old carefree Trip staring back at him. The man with the laughing eyes and the happy heart. Carefree if only for a split second in time. It made the Armoury Officer's heart ache to realising he was glimpsing the past not seeing the present. Dare they hope to ever regain what was lost?

"Come on, Commander. I think we should go while there's still some food left for the others."

"Hey, I think I'm insulted."

"The Sub-Commander has a briefing arranged for this morning. We don't want to miss it."

Trip scowled and pushed his chair back quickly. "Well why didn't ya say so?"

"Because you needed to eat and incidentally so did I."

Still scowling at him, Trip followed Malcolm out of the mess hall. When they got to the situation room T'Pol was already there talking quietly to Hoshi while Travis listened intently. The three of them looked up as the Chief Engineer and Armoury Officer joined them. Trip wished he could have had a moment alone with T'Pol first but that would be impossible now. Just as he was thinking what to say a thought popped unbidden into his head. __

_He was so startled he almost said something out loud. Something must have shown on his face because Malcolm was staring at him but Trip only had eyes for T'Pol. ___

__Although her expression was blank, Trip knew she was inwardly smiling. Amused at his reaction._ _

__He wanted to ask her about that, explore everything that had happened between them but there was no time. They had an enemy to take care of. With extreme prejudice as the military would say. Just then Dr Phlox and Ensign Cutler joined them. The Sub-Commander gave them a nod and indicated for everyone to take their seats around the table as the door hissed shut. "You all know why you are here. We have to eliminate the Xindi threat."_ _

__Trip nodded, his expression grim, eyes hardening with the burning need for revenge._ _

__

__

__Pain shot through him like a thousand knives. Her thoughts came fast and plunged deep into his mind robbing him of argument._ _

__

__Her words cut him. More so because he knew she was right. ____

______ _ _

____The certainty that flooded his mind from those last few words stilled his thoughts. How could she know? Then he realised she was talking aloud now and not to him._ _ _ _

____"Doctor, what did you find out?"_ _ _ _

____"The DNA is definitely the Captain's as is the blood such as it is."_ _ _ _

____"Such as it is?" Said Trip harshly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_ _ _ _

____T'Pol shot him a disapproving look. Her thoughts admonishing him._ _ _ _

____He swallowed awkwardly. "I'm sorry, doc, just hard to think clearly right now."_ _ _ _

____Dr Phlox nodded. "There is no need to apologise, Commander. We are all upset about the Captain."_ _ _ _

____"Ya still haven't explained what ya meant."_ _ _ _

____A brief look passed between the doctor and the Sub-Commander. It almost looked as if the doctor were asking for permission. "You remember the simulacrums? The copies, body doubles, shades, whatever you want to call it that the Zenari used to mimick us?"_ _ _ _

____Trip nodded, frowned, and wondered what the hell that had to do with the Captain. Unless... "Are ya sayin' the Cap'n isn't the Cap'n?"_ _ _ _

____The doctor shook his head. "No, Commander. This *is* the Captain's DNA but it is *not* the Captain."_ _ _ _

____His mouth hung open. "Huh? Wanna run that one by me again, in English?"_ _ _ _

____"I think I would like to hear that explanation as well." Said Lt Reed._ _ _ _

____It was T'Pol who spoke. Reminding them as she had been doing from time to time since they first encountered the Zenari. "They lie."_ _ _ _

____"Thought you said that was the Zenari?"_ _ _ _

____T'Pol gave the Commander a nod. "I did but do not forget who terraformed the Xindi mindset."_ _ _ _

____His eyebrows rose and his heart sank. "Ya sayin' the Xindi have been lyin' as well?"_ _ _ _

____"The acorn does not fall far from the oak." Said Dr Phlox._ _ _ _

____"I do not understand why the Xindi would lie." Said Malcolm. "After all, they want to annihilate us. Wipe us out."_ _ _ _

____"Do they?" Asked Dr Phlox gently._ _ _ _

____Everyone stared at him but only the Vulcan Sub-Commander did not seem surprised by his words._ _ _ _

____"Suppose ya tell us." Said Trip._ _ _ _

____"If all the Xindi want is to wipe us out as you so colourfully put it Commander, why aren't we all dead?"_ _ _ _

____"That was going to be my question." Said Lt Reed, his look thoughtful. Keen eyes flicking between the doctor and T'Pol._ _ _ _

____"The Zenari want us exterminated." Said T'Pol._ _ _ _

____Shock. There was no other word for it. Trip almost laughed. "I can accept they would be happy if we all died, might even lend a hand in some instances, but *all* of us? The entire ship an' the Cap'n? If they intended that T'Pol why didn't they kill us when they had the chance? Why invite us down to the surface? Why the body doubles, the manipulation, the play actin'? It doesn't make sense."_ _ _ _

____"The Zenari are not like other lifeforms we have encountered, Commander."_ _ _ _

____"No, they're a lot more advanced an' a lot more dangerous."_ _ _ _

____"If they want us dead," Said Travis wanting to bring them back to point. "Why aren't we dead?"_ _ _ _

____Dr Phlox looked at T'Pol, waiting for her to answer. Trip had a feeling they both knew the answer in intimate detail. He found himself holding his breath not knowing what would come out of the Vulcan's mouth. "The Zenari are non-corporeal lifeforms."_ _ _ _

____Hoshi's eyes widened, her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "What? Are you saying they aren't *physcial*? I saw them, Sub-Commander, and believe me they are *real*."_ _ _ _

____T'Pol nodded. "Yes, Ensign, they are real just not flesh and blood like we are. Like the Xindi."_ _ _ _

____Trip shook his head. "I'm confused."_ _ _ _

____Beside him Lt Reed could only sympathise. "I assure you everything that happened down on Zeon certainly *felt* real."_ _ _ _

____The Commander thought of something, unwanted pieces of the jigsaw slotting into place not to reveal a picture but a monster. "Yeah, Lieutenant, manipulation. That's it isn't it?"_ _ _ _

____T'Pol nodded._ _ _ _

____"Like when I thought my back was broke and the doc thought his bones were jelly."_ _ _ _

____"Oh, if I had been left much longer they would have been liquified."_ _ _ _

____Trip's head spun. "Huh?"_ _ _ _

____"My body would have accepted the lie, would have been coerced into turning fantasy into fact, Commander. As we have said before the Zenari are master manipulators the like of which we have never seen before."_ _ _ _

____"Next to the Zenari God is an amateur, is that what you're sayin'?"_ _ _ _

____Travis spoke before anyone could respond to Trip's question. "I don't understand why they lied to us."_ _ _ _

____The Sub-Commander took a moment before replying then looked at Lt Reed. "Do you recall the map of past incidents, Lieutenant?"_ _ _ _

____He nodded. How could he forget? "Yes, I do."_ _ _ _

____"The way those incidents at first seemed random, unconnected?"_ _ _ _

____He nodded more slowly now, eyes locked on to T'Pol's. "Yes."_ _ _ _

____"All of those incidents resulted in tragedy. Major loss."_ _ _ _

____A light flickered on in the depths of his storm grey eyes. "Yes. Each incident seemed to be more extensive than it's predecessor. As if they were refining their ability to affect outcomes."_ _ _ _

____"That's exactly what we think they were doing, Lieutenant." Said the doctor. "The Zenari are non-corporeal. They inhabit the corporeal realm--ours and the Xindi's--by choice, in much the same way as you and Commander like to visit the cinema."_ _ _ _

____Trip looked shocked then angry. "Are ya sayin' they do this for *entertainment*?"_ _ _ _

____"They live a life that cannot be forshortened by physical death, Commander."_ _ _ _

____"But why kill us?"_ _ _ _

____"They do not kill directly." Said T'Pol. "They prefer to work behind the scenes, manipulate other races into conflict. Engender a battlefield they can set into motion while they look on."_ _ _ _

____"Bloody hell!"_ _ _ _

____Trip silently agreed with Malcolm. *Bloody, BLOODY hell*. A thought occurred to him. "Then the attack on Earth..."_ _ _ _

____"Was a way to draw Humans into a conflict that had not even begun."_ _ _ _

____"And the Xindi?" Asked Malcolm._ _ _ _

____"They showed the Xindi images of a future that never was in an effort to make it fact."_ _ _ _

____Trip closed his eyes. Holding back tears. Lizzie. Jon. Dead because these sick bastards thought it entertaining. Were amused at their grief and loss. But how do you fight an enemy that cannot die?_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____He opened his eyes and looked at T'Pol. For a moment it was as if they were the only two people in the room. In the entire universe. ____ _ _

_____ _ _ _

_____He was hardly aware of the others talking strategy. Exchanging theories. There was only T'Pol. No one else could hold back the darkness of his mounting dispair. School his anger into a rage that simmered just within his control. A rage which slowly abated as her thoughts soothed him and loved him and held him firmly in the Here and Now. She needed him strong. Needed him focused. In the end all he could fasten on was the one thought that made living again worthwhile. She needed him. He was determined to let that one bright ray of hope be enough._ _ _ _ _

_____***_ _ _ _ _

_____The Xindi Captain was silent. Eyes fastened on his controls, watching the image on the screen as it kept pace with their ship. The Chancellor was still not happy with him. "This is a mistake."_ _ _ _ _

_____"Yes." Said the mammalian Xindi. "Theirs."_ _ _ _ _

_____"As long," Said the Chancellor with malicious intent aimed at the Xindi Captain who had continued to defy him until their colleague had acquiessed. As much in curiosity at the Xindi Captain's insistence as anything else. Forcing him to do likewise. A point he would remember without affection. "As it is not ours."_ _ _ _ _

_____***_ _ _ _ _

_____Kantak had waited hours for the Ambassador to acknowledge his presence so that he could speak. At last Ambassador Chot turned towards him. Kantak bowed low._ _ _ _ _

_____"You have a question?"_ _ _ _ _

_____"We should have killed the Vulcan, majesty."_ _ _ _ _

_____Dark light rippled in fell sparks as his heavy dark cloak shifted. The power exuding from him made his aide dizzy. "Perhaps."_ _ _ _ _

_____"Your excellency," Kantak paused at his own daring._ _ _ _ _

_____"Yes, Kantak? You may speak freely."_ _ _ _ _

_____"Why did you let her live? Let these inferior Humans escape?"_ _ _ _ _

_____"They have not escaped."_ _ _ _ _

_____The aide visibly brightened. His own light flashing its' dark fire like a flare going backwards in search of the source. "And the Xindi?"_ _ _ _ _

_____"They will do as they have always done."_ _ _ _ _

_____The Aide had one last question. One he hoped he would survive the asking. "Where are they leading them?"_ _ _ _ _

_____He sensed a dark malignant satisfaction stealing through his senses. A drink to slake in part a thirst that could never be satisfied. "To the end of all things."_ _ _ _ _

_______ _ _ _


	21. Conundrum

It was weird. Space was not acting like space. The area around the ship flexing and shrinking pock marking the area around them with invisible dents and holes. Sub-Commander T'Pol found the Commander staring out of the observation window, the streaking stars only vaguely taken in as his mind drifted and spun. A cascade of thoughts jockeying for position in a mind numbed by too much information. So he let it drift, using the technique to allow thoughts and ideas to break up and fragment so that he could then see them more clearly in their component parts. Slowly, methodically, putting the pieces together.

T'Pol did not interrupt his stream of consciousness, her presence lapping the outer edges of his consciousness like a calming sea. As he progressed so she allowed more of her presence to soak through to his consciousness, her mind seeping into his so seamlessly that it was some minutes before he realised that he was no longer alone in more than the physical sense. He did not turn his head. There was no need when his every breath was filled with her. The agony of knowledge did not impart an easy wisdom. "Why did he have to die, T'Pol?"

She closed the distance, standing just behind him, and chose to answer mind to mind. No need now to use the pulse points though her hand on his shoulder made contact easier, quicker. 

 

 

Silence. Confusion. 

She felt his tears as if they were her own. T'Pol stepped round him, needing to see his face. To drink in the sorrow in his eyes, to merge her being with his in a blinding need to comfort and make him whole again for only if he was whole could she be complete. 

He blinked. Drowning in her deep eyes. T'Pol touched his cheek, the tears glittering on her fingertips as they caught the light. They were alone, sharing an intimacy beyond physical joining yet with the urge to vanquish all manner of distance that lay between them. Physical as well as mental. She stroked his cheek, her eyes locked on his. Her mind stirring in his and giving him a lifeline to cling to. 

 

 

He just looked at her for a moment. 

 

He was not sure he had understood her correctly. Was about to query it when her lips brushed softly against his and all the air puffed out of his lungs with a sigh of homecoming. Gently she deepened the kiss. He was lost. Found. No longer drifting. His sorrow swept away on wings that carried him so gently, so lovingly, beyond the threshold of pain to touch that which was divine.

 

It never occurred to him to question her. His body was hers to command. His heart already beating in her breast only its' echo left to keep the blood pumping in his veins. He did not know how he got to his quarters but it seemed so natural. Her need now building slowly in him. A passion that fired every cell in his body with the need to imprint himself on her and her on him. Minds reached as hands moved in a slow and sinuous ballet of movements divesting each other of confining clothes, the warm hush of hands on bare skin warming the undulating landscape of bodies in motion. She leaned in to kiss him, his head dipping down so his lips could meet hers, her hands outlining him as her mind drank him in. An overwhelming need to make love to her flooded his senses, the blood pounding like jungle drums in his ears, every atom of his being straining to the joy of her touch. The passion of her mind flaring and setting off physical desires in him that made him so horny he began to tremble with the urgency of his need.

Her lips pulled away from his as she kissed and licked her way down the column of his throat, his hands dancing over her cooling skin and making her shudder with lust. He wanted to guide her to the bed but she remained where she was, standing in the middle of the room, the liquid pool of her eyes darkening as she dropped slowly to her knees. Her hand caressing him so gently drawing a moan of pleasure and desire from his lips, her mouth finding him moist, pearls of jism beading his crown as she inhaled his scent and warmed the head with her lanquid tongue. His moan deepened, a hand stroking gently through her short hair, the other stroking her neck. His eyes were closed now, trying to keep control as long as possible. Let her do to him whatever she wanted, however she chose. He was hers and nothing in creation would change that.

All his senses were heightened. He felt the soft rub of her lapping tongue, the taste buds savouring him as the crown leaked. A hand sliding down to cup his root then slowly massage him and tease more milk white tears to gently flood her lapping tongue. Slowly she worked him, letting her pleasure swamp his mind so that his lust and hers egged each other on in a rising passion that drew exquisite fire through his loins and made him throb hard with the heat of his aching need for her. He bit his lip to ground himself, to slow down but it was so hard. T'Pol mouthed him gently, still licking and now sucking, her hand on him dropping to tease his balls, rolling them gently in her hand. His mouth dropped open, a groan leaking out as his hips jerked into her mouth causing her teeth to catch on him. Mentally she hushed his agonised moan. 

 

 

__

_If he wasn't so close to coming he would have laughed but everything ached with need. He thought he was going to ejaculate any second now, wanted to warn her, but before he could she slid her hand up his shaft and pressed under the head causing him to soften. A growl of deep frustration escaped trembling lips. T'Pol hid a smile and continued the sweet torment, stringing him out until he thought his knees were going to buckle._

_His breath huffed with what she was doing to him, her touch driving him crazy, the lap of her thoughts against his almost as erotic as her physical touch. Trying to give her whatever she wanted he laid himself bare, T'Pol gently urging and showing him how to go deeper, higher, the sensations building between them becoming more and more intense until he was almost crying with the need to come, to orgasm. Still she kept him dancing on the edge, bringing him to the brink, sucking down his juices then drawing him back. So many times that he thought she would suck him sore but she did not. She knew just how much he could handle and stopped short of killing him outright. In her mind he was almost weeping for her but it was so beautiful, so heart stoppingly sweet that he hung on with every shred of control that was left to him. Then with a sudden change in her touch, the urgent demand of her mouth, he came in a bright dizzying flash of heat, his spine snapping with a jolt like an electrical current zipping through him as he erupted in a white flood down her throat._

_Her mouth pumped him, her hands guiding him, her thoughts catching him as he teetered on the brink of blacking out. Her strength upheld him, his need for her embracing every thought they shared. Slowly they sank to the floor, her arms cradling him as his knees hit the carpet. Her mouth lapping round his spent cock and then licking him making his over sensitised organ twitch against the rythym of her tongue._

_She did not stop and further thoughts were beyond him. Impossibly he could feel himself start to harden in her busy mouth. How the hell had she managed that? He did not have any strength left yet she coaxed him and teased him until he was again filling her mouth, the blood engorging spent tissue and giving him new life. He gasped as her teeth caught deliberately underneath his cap, her tongue teasing the salty slit, her right hand now sliding under him and stroking between his cheeks. Then her mouth drew back and gently pushed him on to his back. He needed no further coaxing, physically tired but already starting to get his second wind. T'Pol smiled down at him with her eyes and as he stared at her in open eyed wonder and adoration she slowly sat down on his erection and impaled herself on him. A stuttered cry of shock and pleasure tore from his lips._

_Then she was rocking and sliding up and down him, her strong interior muscles flexing around him so tightly that he could not take a full breath. His gasps fragmented shudders of passion, his eyes fluttering as he tried to steady the rythym of his heart and keep pace with her. Once found, the rythym became more frantic. Trip caught a heavy breast in his mouth and tongued the nipple, drawing it between his teeth and worrying it into a hard pyramid of desire that had T'Pol groaning. She speeded up and he almost lost his concentration, then they were flying, his hands on her hips raising her up and down his shaft as he rocked his hips up to meet downward thrusts. Their cries conjoining as their bodies drew closer and closer to coitus. He was so close now, how close was she? Her mind was flooding him with impossible images almost pushing him over the edge but he wanted her with him. He slid a hand between them and began to rub against her bundle of nerves, her body shaking against the rythym of his hand bringing her to the edge with him. Shuddering hard and screaming into her mouth as he came she shook as he stilled momentarily and they burst into orgasm together. It was so intense he blacked out for a second. T'Pol's arms tightening slightly around him, her internal muscles gripping him so hard his penis could not soften._

_As he came to he moaned. T'Pol stroked his sweat soaked hair and kissed the closed lids of his eyes. He was exhausted but she was not. Glistening with persiration she glided against him. He did not have the energy to open his eyes. T'Pol's thoughts touched his, allowing him to recover slowly while massaging him with her interior muscles._

_He wanted to, so desperately, yet she was beginning to ride him again and once more he could feel himself reacting. He was hard enough to bore through solid rock only now it was getting painful._

_She knew but passion ruled her. They were bonding and the Vulcan imperative, the drive, the over riding need to be one, controlled everything. She did not want to hurt him. Vulcan mating practices could be very intense, especially when the two parties were so emotionally close. ___

__It took him a full minute to form another coherent thought. It staggered in his mind until she caught it._ _

__She did not confess the reason for her haste._ _

_____ _

___T'Pol broke off to gasp as her movements became more eratic, her excitement causing her to shove herself harder and harder down on him as he struggled to keep up with her._ _ _

___ _

___He could feel her laughter in his minid. God, he had not thought a woman's laugh could be so sexy. All the while she was riding him hard yet drawing out each thrust, her muscles gripping him so tight he could hardly breathe yet he would cut off his arms and legs before he would tell her to stop. If he had to die he wanted to go just like this. But oh God in Heaven, let it be *after* they finished. More laughter, gentle thoughts stroking through his mind as she encouraged the blood to throb like a military tattoo, his balls tightening. He froze and held his breath, she clung to him then plunged him over the edge. Hardly any ejaculate exploded from him. It was more a sudden release of pressure oiled by her orgasm as she flooded round him. T'Pol clung to him, their bodies sliding against each other. As she finished coming he passed out with exhaustion. It took her a couple of minutes to catch her breath, her mind touching his tenderly. Celebrating the intensity of their joining and knowing that nothing now could ever break the bond._ _ _

___With a tiny sigh T'Pol eased off him, releasing him so he could soften and recover in sleep. She kissed his face, her lips covering him. She paused and looked down at his beautiful face, loving the way he shone in the aftermath of mating. Tracing his features with her fingertips, her tender regard memorising him as she trailed her tongue and lips slowly over his face and neck, savouring the taste of him before sleep too would claim her. He was her Ashayam and for the first time in her life she was fully and totally content. Too soon they would have to turn their thoughts to the task ahead of them. Fortified they would better stand a chance of surviving what was to come. But T'Pol wanted more than to simply survive. She kissed his ear, slowly licking the shell and sliding her tongue down the ear canal huffing a warm breath to stir against his eardrum. In his sleep he shuddered and she settled down to suck his earlobe and cradle him as he slept. Soon she would join him but as she waited for the passion to abate so she could do so she caressed and kissed him, her hands warming him as he cooled. Her body draping over his in love and protection._ _ _

___Her eyes grew heavy. Her mind delirious with joy. Stifling a yawn she laid her head on his chest, tilted it so that her ear lay over his heart. Hugged him to her with an emotion so deep tears pricked her eyes. So happy. So possessive of him. She could not fail. For if she did she would not only lose the war she would lose him and that was no option at all._ _ _

___***_ _ _

___It was dark and so totally lacking in sensation that he spent the longest time wondering whether or not he was dead. It seemed to take a great deal of effort for him to make the leap in logic that mocked his assumption. If he were dead he would not know it for he would know no more ergo he was not dead. That left the question of where he was and what the hell was going on. Nothing. No light. No sound. No heat. No sense of touch, of up or down, not even motion. He felt as if he were suspended, locked in a form of sensory deprivation that was so absolute he had no notion of how he would break free of it. Yet he could not rouse himself enough to apprehend any fear. He knew he should be concerned but did not know why._ _ _

___***_ _ _

___Lt Reed could not stop sneaking a glance at the Commander. The man seemed to find everything too much effort. Walking in a straight line had become an olympic event and whenever the Armoury Officer asked him if he was alright Trip simply muttered that he was just a little tired. Tired? If the comatose could get up and walk they would look a lot like the Commander right now. What was wrong with him? "Commander, you are dead on your feet. If you are not sleeping I suggest you speak to Dr Phlox."_ _ _

___"I'm alright, Malcolm. Don't fuss."_ _ _

___Lt Reed raised his eyebrows. "Fuss? Commander you are falling over your feet in an effort to simply stay upright." He did not ask if Trip had been having nightmares again, knowing only too well how volatile his friend could become whenever the matter of his sister was raised even inadvertently. To say he was touchy was putting it mildly. So Malcolm did not to press too hard though he could not keep the worry out of his eyes or his voice. Fortunately, Trip was too out of it to notice. Malcolm's eyes narrowed._ _ _

___They were heading for Engineering, a destination that Malcolm wanted to steer Trip clear off. At least until he was confident his friend would not blow himself up or fall asleep in a Jeffries tube. Trip suddenly stopped in his tracks and raised his head, deliberately looking the Armoury Officer in the eye. "Ya don't have to babysit me, Malcolm."_ _ _

___"Who says that's what I'm doing?"_ _ _

___"I'm tired not stupid."_ _ _

___A partial smile quirked the corner of the Lieutenant's mouth. "A little difficult to tell the difference right now, Commander."_ _ _

___"Very funny. Ya know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."_ _ _

___"And the highest form of intelligence." Malcolm added._ _ _

___Trip tried to glare at him but did not have the energy to invest any real menace into it. He sighed and leant on the wall. "I can't believe he's dead."_ _ _

___The Lieutenant fell silent. He had no words of comfort._ _ _

___"Should'a been me not him."_ _ _

___Lt Reed frowned. "How do you come to that conclusion?"_ _ _

___"I'm expendable, Malcolm," He explained. "The Cap'n isn't."_ _ _

___"Rubbish! No one on Enterprise is *expendable*, do you hear me? And if Captain Archer could hear you now he would be furious with you."_ _ _

___Trip blinked back tears. "Yeah, but he'd be *alive*, Malcolm."_ _ _

___His friend swallowed slowly while he regained his composure. "It wasn't your fault Trip, none of this was." He said quietly. "No one could have anticipated what the Xindi would do."_ _ _

___"An' now? What're we doin'?"_ _ _

___"We're following them."_ _ _

___"Why? Why follow them if we aren't gonna blast them outta the sky? Answer me that, Malcolm."_ _ _

___"The Sub-Commander thinks they may lead us to wherever it is that they are making the bomb."_ _ _

___"Ya mean their homeworld?"_ _ _

___Lt Reed paused before answering. "Do you have a better idea, Commander? Because if you do I would really like to hear it."_ _ _

___Seconds passed into minutes. The Commander sighed. It did not so much sound like a truce as a flag of surrender. When he spoke again he sounded so desperately tired that Lt Reed almost turned him around and marched him back to his quarters to get some sleep. Which really was ridiculous because the Commander had only just woken up. Malcolm knew because he had woken him._ _ _

___"Commander?" Trip did not respond. He stood leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Gently Malcolm touched his shoulder. "Trip?"_ _ _

___With an effort the Commander opened his eyes. "Sorry, Malcolm, guess I should'a gone to bed earlier."_ _ _

___"Why are you so tired?"_ _ _

___"Just not sleepin'."_ _ _

___The Lieutenant decided not to press further. "How about we get some coffee first?"_ _ _

___Trip sighed, managed a smile and let himself be coaxed to turn around and head towards the mess hall. "Now you're talkin'."_ _ _

___"Then Commander, we should be just in time for the Sub-Commander's next briefing."_ _ _

___"I thought we already had that?"_ _ _

___"That was yesterday. This, Commander, is another day..."_ _ _

___***_ _ _

___Dr Phlox was feeling much better and had at last managed to persuade Ensign Cutler that he did not need someone with him twenty four hours a day. At first he had been amused. Flattered. Grateful. Now he was simply relieved to have slipped the leash. Sub-Commander T'Pol was pleased to find him alone in sickbay._ _ _

___"Ah, Sub-Commander, I wondered when I would be seeing you."_ _ _

___"What have you discovered?"_ _ _

___"You were right. The residue from the simulacrum ashes confirms it. The trace elements were so small I had to test and retest the results to be sure."_ _ _

___"And the percentage parts per million in the residue from the transporter room?"_ _ _

___"Too close to be co-incidence."_ _ _

___They lapsed into a comfortable silence. At last T'Pol said what was on her mind. "Why the subterfuge?"_ _ _

___"You said it yourself, T'Pol. They lie."_ _ _

___"Yes, but always for a purpose."_ _ _

___"Who says they don't have a purpose this time?"_ _ _

___A longer silence._ _ _

___"Are you going to tell him?"_ _ _

___"I see no point in raising the Commander's hopes, doctor."_ _ _

___"You aren't being fair to him, T'Pol." Said the doctor gently._ _ _

___Her eyes hardened. "I think I am the best judge of that."_ _ _

___He shook his head slowly. "I think not."_ _ _

___Her eyes narrowed dangerously but he was not discomfitted. He knew all her moods and his time spent with the Commander since the mission had begun had not been wasted._ _ _

___"Commander Tucker is far more resilent that you have given him credit for."_ _ _

___"As is the Captain."_ _ _

___"The residue and ash do not prove your theory."_ _ _

___"Neither do they prove he is dead. Damaged undoubtedly."_ _ _

___"Damaged? You mean injured."_ _ _

___She did not respond. The look in her eye said she knew exactly what she had said and it gave him the urge to shudder as he realised what she meant. She startled him with a revelation. "The Commander and I are now fully bonded."_ _ _

___"Is he injured?"_ _ _

___"No, doctor, but he should sleep for several more hours."_ _ _

___He frowned. "I do not think you can count on that, T'Pol. Humans are unpredictable."_ _ _

___She shook her head at his misunderstanding of her tactics. "I do not want my Ashayam to sleep."_ _ _

___"He will be unable to respond with his usual vigor, T'Pol. That could disadvantage him."_ _ _

___The look she gave him was level. Her eyes steady deep pools that threatened to drown him. "The better for us to control his autonomic responses."_ _ _

___Dr Phlox accepted her decision though part of him felt a vague sense of unease. He liked the Commander. Knew T'Pol felt the closest thing a Vulcan could feel to love for the Human. But what they were up against dwarfed all considerations of singular loyalties. The larger picture had to be served and if some fell by the wayside in the service of the many so be it. He could not stop himself being grateful that he was a Denobulan. He hoped the Humans would approve what would be done in their name._ _ _

___"How do you want to handle this?"_ _ _

___"We will follow, see where the Xindi lead us."_ _ _

___"And if it *is* their homeworld?"_ _ _

___"We will find the bomb and destroy it."_ _ _

___"And if not?"_ _ _

___She gave a slow measured pause. "Then we will destroy the Xindi ship and everything on it."_ _ _

___A longer silence followed, Dr Phlox not taking his eyes off the Sub-Commander's face. "That would make the Captain's survival a moot point." He said quietly. His voice carefully non-judgemental._ _ _

___For a moment her dark liquid eyes just stared at him. "Yes."_ _ _

___In the silence that followed Dr Phlox was suddenly grateful that Trip had not been present for this particular discussion._ _ _

___ _

_____ _


	22. Kingdom Of The Blind

It was so dark he was beginning to think the light of memory was a fantasy. A dream of impossible images made flesh to divert himself from the infinite boredom of this empty void. Was this Hell? Damned if he knew. In fact he was not sure of anything any more. He fancied he breathed a sigh into existence but had no means of knowing if it had happened. Never before had the gift of imagination seemed so like a curse.

***

The briefing was surprisingly short and succinct. Lt Reed wondered whether it was in deference to the Chief Engineer's difficulty in staying awake. He had to quash the temptation to ask the Commander for what seemed like the hundredth time if he was alright. And was that a flicker of surprise on the Sub-Commander's face when he entered the situation room with Trip?

"We are approaching the Xindi ship and will be within range in 2.4 hours." Said T'Pol carefully. "It is imperative that we do not increase speed and remain beyond their scanning range."

"What is their scanning range?" Asked the Armoury Officer.

"We do not know." The Sub-Commander admitted bluntly.

That did not please Lt Reed. "If we do not know their scanning range then they may already be aware that we are following them."

"That is correct."

For a moment he just stared at T'Pol then glanced aside to look at the Commander. This was the part where the normally voluble Southerner would make his observations but there was not so much as a peep out of him. Lt Reed only knew he was awake because his eyes were open. What was wrong with him and why was the Sub-Commander so close to the hostile species who wanted to annihilate the Humans along with their home world? Something was not adding up.

Travis Mayweather could feel a subtle tension. He glanced at Hoshi but she was no wiser that he was. Both were disturbed not only by the Commander's lack of input but also by T'Pol's bald statement. "Sub-Commander, if I may ask, what are we going to do?"

"We will continue to follow them to see where they go."

"An' if they don't go to their home world what do we do then?"

All heads turned to look at the Commander. Sub-Commander T'Pol seemed to stiffen imperceptibly. "Then we will destroy the Xindi ship."

A collective gasp punctuated the sudden silence. Trip stared at T'Pol. His mind was fairly numb and thoughts were sluggish but he was slowly pulling himself back together. The marathon session with the Sub-Commander earlier had obviously taken more out of him than he expected. Damn, he could do with some of that Vulcan stamina right now. He felt T'Pol in his mind, her thoughts gentle and soothing. Concerned. A seeming contradiction to her tense stance as he viewed it now.

*There is no other way, Ashayam*

*There's always another way, ya either haven't thought of it yet or ya have an' for whatever reason have discounted it. So which is it, T'Pol?*

*We must obey the dictates of necessity*

*That's a load of bull an' ya know it*

*You should be resting*

A trickle of suspicion seeped through his consciousness. *Is that what all the love makin' was about? Did ya hope to tire me out so much that I'd miss this meetin'?*

She tried to be unaffected by his theory but the guess hit home. No words could express how much that knocked the stuffing out of him. The Sub-Commander tried to reassure him. *You do not understand, Trip. With your devotion to the Captain, even knowing or believing him to be dead, I could not be assured that you would be able to allow this option*

*Option?* Real rage began to build behind that mild word. *Jonathan Archer isn't an OPTION T'Pol an' I don't like the way you're tryin' to manipulate us into followin' a course of action that'll take the possibility of gettin' him back out of our hands. Just what the hell are ya up to?*

*The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Commander* Her thoughts echoed quietly inside his head, scalding his mind with her cold hearted logic and searing a path of unbearable pain and sorrow through the walls of his heart.

Lt Reed was anxious. After his comment to T'Pol the Commander had clammed up again and just stared at her. Now. Unless he was much mistaken. He could see tears building in the man's eyes. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder and leaned close enough to whisper. "Perhaps we should go, Commander?"

He made no response. The Sub-Commander was talking again but Malcolm barely heard her. Carefully steering Trip away from the room as the meeting broke up. Instructions ringing in his ears that he was only partly aware of. He could almost feel the Vulcan's eyes boring through the back of his head and wondered just what the hell was going on.

***

"You cannot tell him." Said the mammalian Xindi.

The Xindi Captain was the calmest. They were in the war room of their ship, all five sub-species in conference. "Yet they follow. Why?"

The Chancellor tilted his shoulders in what could have been a shrug. "Do not ascribe intelligence to random acts of neurosis."

"They are sentients."

"By definition only, and a loose and rather generous one." He paused. "Remember our doom."

All three nodded solemnly. The insectoid Xindi was growing impatient. "The Humans are slow, encumbered by their inadequacies. Yet the portents are beyond question."

The thought seemed to trouble his mammalian cousin. The Chancellor frowned. "We should have killed him."

"No," Said the Xindi Captain. The other two looked at him, wondering at his steadfast insistence.

"Why do you persist, cousin? An enemy should not be left to soil our air, pollute our waters. The taint will surely fill our nostrils long after he has gone. Would you choke on the foul stench of their bile?"

"Something is not right."

"*You* are what is not right." Sneered the Chancellor.

The Xindi Captain resisted any attempt to bait him. He was thinking. His fast reptillian brain detecting an emerging pattern his cousins had yet to see. If he was right the life or death of a single Human would pale into insignificance but even voicing his suspicion would be enough to ensure his own very painful death. No. His best hope for uncovering the truth and calming his volatile cousins was to do this carefully. The smart way. Let them fight over the outcome once it was assured. Timing, after all, was everything.

***

The Ambassador listened carefully, his body angled forward in deep obeisance. His Master's echoing voice fell silent, the dark column of his energy warping the very air around the dias with his awesome power. Ambassador Chot was faint with joy, enervated by the prospect of pleasing him. "These Humans are quite ingenious, Master. They should not have been able to leave Zeon yet they did so leaving none behind. They should not have survived confrontation with the Xindi yet their Captain still lives though that thread grows weaker with every passing day. They should not be able to follow yet they do."

"It will avail them naught."

"Master?"

"I sense a wavering in our protege. You will go to them, *persuade* them that the time has come to solidify their allegiance or face the consequences."

The Ambassador paused just a fraction. "This could divide the union."

"Only the strong will survive."

"Yes, Master, but we need all of them to survive."

"No. We need nothing but the inspiration of our intellect. These weak vessels are amusing for a while but they can hold little of lasting value. If they fail they die."

"And if they succeed?"

"We may spare them."

"And their world?"

"Will be a place of pilgrimage to honour their ancestors."

"That was not our bargain."

"No." Soothed the Master, his deep rich voice making the air tremble with dark vapor. To the untutored eye it looked not unlike smoke drifting in a faint breeze. "But life is nothing if not adaptable." He paused and the Ambassador felt a shift in his temperament. "You should not have suffered the Vulcan to live." He rebuked mildly.

The Ambassador bowed even lower. "We did not expect her to bring the spy. She knows too much for her knowledge to be accidental."

"You think her High Command authorised this?" The Divinity sounded surprised. A rare thing indeed.

"I know not, Master, but it is unexpected. With the Vulcan on a ship of Humans it makes sense of the prophecy. The portents grow stronger the closer they get to the spawning grounds."

"And you have found the one? The link that will fashion a more durable steel from this flawed metal?"

"No. There is a confusion of emotions, Master."

"Explain this confusion."

"The Vulcan is very loyal to the Human Captain."

"He is the link?"

"Possibly."

"You are not certain?"

"No."

"Who else?"

"She is very close to the spy."

"He is Denobulan?"

"Yes, Master."

"How many Humans?"

"82."

A long pause. "A large number."

"Yes, Master, but I do not believe all can be candidates." He paused. "The Vulcan is very particular as is their predisposition to forge order out of chaos."

"You must find her. Bring her to me."

"And the Humans?"

"Let the Xindi earn their position in evolution. Nothing teaches better than the drive for survival."

The Ambassador stilled and let pleasure seep through him as a dark vaporous hand detached from the column to crown him, the power shifting down through him and filling him with an intense burning resolve to prove worthy. As he inhaled the intense heat of that unrefined power the outer layers of his current form were immolated and shrivelled in liquid flames that bathed him in the fire of rebirth. When the hand drew back the sharp pang of loss was replaced with renewed commitment fashioned to his newly rendered form.

***

It had taken some doing to get her alone but once the door hissed shut behind them he could hold in his temper no longer. "What the hell do ya think you're doin'? How dare ya play God with the Cap'n's life!"

Sub-Commander T'Pol gazed back at him, her pain only apparent in his mind. To all outward appearances she was emotionless. The bland mask showing nothing but an unfeeling face. Trip knew differently but at that precise moment he saw the carefully schooled architecture that protected her Vulcan sensibilities and allowed the facade to inflame him. Building on his passion and sense of betrayal. There were tears in his eyes.

"How could ya, T'Pol?" He choked out, his own heart compressing in a pain that could not be contained no matter how much he tried to hide the hurt from her. She would have known anyway for they were one. One. That was a laugh. She had tricked him and weak fallible Human that he was he had fallen for it. And damn, but it hurt.

*Ashayam...*

"Don't ya 'ashayam' me as if you've done nothin'. Do ya know how dirty I feel, T'Pol?" His voice cracked and he sub-vocalised the rest of his sorrow. The beat of her own heart a frantic shudder of emotional debris that was beyond her control. *How can I ever trust ya again, T'Pol? Don't ya understand? I love ya, not affection, not respect, not the regard of one colleague for another. Hell it goes beyond all those things an' more. Ya hurt me T'Pol and I don't know how I can get passed the pain*

She blinked slowly, the moisture in her eyes momentarily blurring her vision. This was why she had not told him. Why she had tried to outflank his sensiblities hoping that he would sleep through the worst of it. She should have known. The Commander was nothing if unpredictable in all but his passions. *I apologise, Trip. I did not mean to deceive you*

*Yet ya did*

His thoughts were faint, little echoes of the betrayal constricting the beat of his sorrowing heart. Ignoring the words that had gushed forth in pained accusation she closed the distance between them and raised a hand to cradle the side of his face. He looked deep into that dark liquid pool, his eyes twin pools of misery. Gently her fingers splayed and settled on the pulse points. He was so upset he barely noticed. *You can trust me, Ashayam*

He was choking back tears. Wanting so desperately to believe her but not daring to. Not knowing what other nasty skeletons lurked in that Vulcan closet.

"Do you trust me, Ashayam?" She whispered out loud.

Impossibly he realised he still did. The hurt and betrayal dimming as he gazed deep into her eyes. Unable to stop loving her. His voice caught as he responded. "Ya know I do."

"How much?" She asked softly, her lips less than a handspan from his face. Her warm breath making him sway towards her with need and helpless desire. Trip thought he would drown in those eyes.

"Heart an' soul, darlin'. Heart an' soul." He could feel her love stirring in his heart. Her eyes mirroring everything he felt for her and more. Transfixed he could not look away.

*Enough to blindly follow wherever I lead?"

He searched her eyes for a clue as to where this was heading. A flicker of suspicion threatening to plunge him back into emotional chaos. Her love eased into all the dark places of his soul, her touch on his face echoed through every cell of his body until he was aching for her. It was more than a physical longing, it was a cry from the soul. "Yeah." His voice was shaky with emotion. "It's probably stupid, T'Pol, but I do."

Her look softened in some indefinable way. He felt a slight tingle on the side of his face where the warmth of her handle gently cradled his cheek. It was the only warning before he was plunged deep into that exotic mind. This time the journey was smooth, fast, and bewilderingly... alien.

***

Darkness. So complete and utter that his senses could find no foothold in reality. He thought he fancied another voice apart from the inner one screaming his fear and frustration in the calm void that bound him. If this was not Hell was it Purgatory? That no man's land of the soul where the damned were left to weep and gnash their teeth and never draw near to the Gates of Heaven? Or the waiting room for the Devil's Own Playground? Did he have to wait for new evils to be born before he joined their number? Thinking was not so much painful as wearying yet wherever he was there was no rest from the endless cycle of his thoughts. So was this living or a mockery of death?

A shock of sensation suddenly burned right through him redefining every definition he knew of pain. Unable to tell where it had touched him or whether he had imagined it mimicking some memory that radiated like a sharp needle point of bright agony bursting in his numbed mind and forcing an alertness into his wasting senses. He felt as if his skin had been peeled off with a blowtouch and something had just brushed the exposed weeping flesh beneath. Had he cried out? He could not be sure, not even aware of whether he had a mouth to open let alone the architecture of a body to frame neural responses to a torture he could not quantify. Baffled and frightened his thoughts trembled. Oddly enough the fear reassured him. Only the living knew fear. It was a pathetic prop but he clung to it shamelessly. Survival really was the strongest instinct.

***

Ensign Mayweather was careful to keep far enough back not to disturb the ship's wake yet he could not help wishing they knew how far the Xindi sensors could reach. Were they out of sensor range or being drawn into a new trap? He glanced across at Hoshi, her face paler than usual, the look in her eyes frozen between fright and fear. He wished he could reassure her but what with? His head turned as Sub-Commander T'Pol returned to the bridge. Lt Reed looked up at her, a query in his eyes that went unanswered. She did not take the Captain's seat but stood with legs braced, hands clasped behind her back, her eyes facing forward and watching the screen.

Lt Reed wondered where Trip was but knew better than to ask. Something was definitely going on between his friend and the Vulcan Sub-Commander but he was not prepared to speculate further. He just hoped the Commander knew what he was doing.

"Has there been any deviation in their course, Ensign?"

The boomer shook his head, checking his instrumentation as he did so. "No, Sub-Commander."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She looked at Hoshi. "Have they sent any transmissions?"

Ensign Sato shook her head. T'Pol's frown deepened. Everyone was aware of an inexplicable rise in tension. The Armoury Officer decided to call her on it. "Sub-Commander, what are you suggesting?"

"I am not suggesting anything, Lieutenant, but I am surprised."

"Why?"

She turned her head to look at him. "The Xindi are Zenari puppets. I am surprised they are acting without any orders from their masters."

"Who says they aren't?"

All eyes turned as Trip stepped on to the bridge. He still looked tired but he was walking and talking without any problem and that was something of a welcome improvement.

"There have been no transmissions, Commander. No contact with the Zenari."

He shook his head, his eye on the screen. "Uh uh, no transmissions doesn't mean no contact T'Pol, ya should know that."

She stared at him. *What are you saying?*

He chose to answer out loud. Not wanting the bridge crew to know they could sub-vocalise. That was his and T'Pol's little secret. Perhaps it was one the Zenari and Xindi shared too? "They could be telpathic, Sub-Commander."

Ensign Hoshi Sato looked surprised then a spark of interest sharpened the look in her eyes. "It *is* feasible, Sub-Commmander, and the mindset of both species is close enough for it to be a distinct possibility."

"Is there any evidence this is the case, Ensign?"

Hoshi reluctantly shook her head. "No, Sub-Commander." She glanced at Trip, her eyes saying sorry. He did not seem peturbed but walked over to his work station next to Malcolm.

"Good to see you are feeling better, Commander." Murmured the Lieutenant quietly.

Trip smiled and gave him a brief nod. Lt Reed felt himself relax. Glad to have the Chief Engineer acting more like his usual self. Trip looked around at the others, a muted twinkle in his eyes. "So what have I missed?"

***

They had been quarrelling. Again. The Chancellor was getting tired of leading the Humans around by the nose. He wanted to engage them in battle. Wipe the murderous scum out of the Expanse and scatter their raw material among the solar debris of lost stars. "This is a waste of time. We should destroy them now."

The mammalian Xindi was cautious. "They could have a hundred ships waitinig for just such an act of aggression."

The Chancellor leaned across the table on his powerful forearms. "Then where are they? We have picked nothing up on sensors. They are bluffing."

"Or confident that they have the upper hand." Said the Xindi Captain.

The Chancellor was about to challenge his puny intellect when the air warped around them. All conversation stopped. The large tank behind them churned as their aquatic cousins glided closer to the glass. "We are not alone."

They turned and stared as a column of dark shadow coalesced out of the empty air into a distinct recognisable form. The Xindi Captain was surprised. The mammalian Xindi looked alarmed as if their dissention had caused the form to appear. Almost he seemed fearful of being punishment. The Chancellor did not relinquish his beligerence though he did moderate his tone. "They are still in pursuit, Master."

Ambassador Chot nodded. The Xindi all inclined their heads in an almost choreographed act of submission. "The Humans must not reach the spawning grounds."

The reptillian Xindi Captain dared to speak. "That was our instruction, master."

"Instructions can change. Outcomes must be assured."

The Chancellor felt a surge of excitement. Carefully he schooled his features, not wishing to seem too eager and thus earn a bad opinion from the only authority that mattered. "What do you wish us to do?"

"Kill them! But first you must capture the Vulcan. She is not to be harmed. Once we have questioned and examined her you may extinguish the rest."

The Xindi exchanged furtive looks of surprise. To extract a single lifeform out of many was not an easy task. Destroying the Human vessel was.

The mammallian Xindi tried not to look troubled. "What of their other ships? We could be advancing the end of our race."

"Do you question your maker?"

He trembled and bowed low. All thought of speaking again quashed. The Ambassador eyed them each in turn. The insectoid Xindi flexed his mandibles and Ambassador Chot replied in his complex language not the common tongue. The aquatic Xindi moved with sinuous grace inside their tank, bowing to whatever decision Chot cared to make. Knowing the Divine Hand he represented and the cost of opposing it.


	23. Survival Instinct

Lt Malcolm Reed felt a surge of pure adrenaline. He spoke urgently, not taking his eyes off his console. "Sub-Commander! The Xindi ship is turning around."

Sub-Commander T'Pol tensed. The gamble had back fired. "Polarise the hull plating and..."

Before she could finish the command the ship lurched beneath their feet. Sparks flew from several consoles and the bridge lights flickered. The Enterprise shuddered hard as it took several more hits. T'Pol looked furious.

"Return fire, Lieutenant!"

The Armoury Officer nodded and fired the phototonic torpedoes watching with satisfaction as the Xindi ship slowed under the barrage and began to show damage of its' own. He stopped short of actually annihilating the enemy. Even the slightest hope that the Captain was still alive was one he wanted to hang on to for as long as possible. He hoped the Sub-Commander would not give him the order to finish the other ship off. But any idea that the Xindi ship was easy prey vanished with the next broadside. Smoke was now beginning to fill the bridge. Sub-Commander T'Pol called for damage reports as Lt Reed shut off the alarms. He did not need to be told they were in trouble but he did need to be able to hear himself think.

Commander Tucker's voice crackled through the com from Engineering. "We're taking heavy damage in Engineering..." They could hear several people cursing and coughing in the background. Something hissed through the com then the Chief Engineer was speaking again, his voice halting every now and then as if trying to clear his lungs of smoke. "We lost Reigert and Higgs, Billy Cox is just a bit stunned so that's an improvement but the engines are off-line and we're losing power."

"Understood Commander. We are under attack from the Xindi ship. Do whatever you can to repair the most critical systems and re-establish warp capability."

"Aye-aye Sub-Commander."

*Are you injured, Ashayam?*

*Not where it shows. You?*

*I am well*

*Be sure ya stay that way, T'Pol*

Then the link between them was cut, their duties taking precedence. Another heavy hit brought Enterprise to a listing halt in forward momentum. No one needed the Chief Engineer's input to tell them that all power to the engines had now been nullified. They were on emergency lighting and the air was getting pretty thin. It was not so bad for T'Pol, being a Vulcan, but the humans were finding breathing painful. A labour that was undermining their efficiency. She was more than worried. The Sub-Commander actually contemplated the unthinkable. Contacting the enemy ship to obtain a cease fire. She would *not* call it a surrender.

***

It was unthinkable. How could they ask him that?

"Your people are on the brink of extinction."

His mind was sluggish and this was reflected in his disjointed and slurred attempts at dialogue. "Why should I believe you?"

"I do not lie."

He thought about that. Remembered as if it was a hundred years ago that the Xindi Captain had been the only dissenting voice when his own death had been mooted. In a very real sense he had saved his life. Why was not clear to him even now. It had been a shock to realise there were several forms of Xindi. It was like looking at all of God's evolutionary mistakes gathered together. All those Darwinian dead ends that should have remained no more than a footnote in some alien culture's database. To see them up close and personal was a vision of hell he would rather have avoided. But they were real. Alive. And disturbingly intelligent. Not the Neanderthal mutterings of his own people's ancestors.

"What do you want with me?"

The lighting had been dimmed almost to black. The reptillian Xindi had no trouble seeing in the dimness, the light level dropped to accommodate the traumatised Human. Deprived of light and all sensation Captain Archer was feeling a little overwhelmed but as the conversation progressed he was adapting and becoming more coherent and confident. His survival though baffled him. They were enemies. He was literally at their mercy. A race that had openly vowed to destroy his people, his world. So why the largesse? What could they possibly want that he could give them? And if it was this important should he even entertain the thought of giving it to them?

***

Main Engineering was like a vision from Dante's Inferno. Sweat poured down Commander Tucker's face. Many of his crew had burns on their hands and faces, uniforms torn and blackened. Faces blistered, voices choking on acrid fumes. The Chief Engineer managed to get Toby Weiss out from under a piece of fallen ductwork with only a few scratches to show for it. The young engineer grinned through a face blackened with grime, one side of his face shinier than the other where a large blister was forming where he had been burnt.

"Ya need to see the doc, Toby."

He shook his hair. "No can do, Chief, you need me here."

"Toby, that was an order not a request."

"Sir..."

"Jump to it or those injuries'll be the least of your problems."

"Sorry Chief, I can't."

Trip spun round to glare at him then stopped in his tracks, suddenly seeing what his subordinate meant. The door to main Engineering was sealed shut. Not by the heat which was running rampant fueled by numerous fires which his valiant crew were slaving away to put out, but by the warped wall and ceiling around the doorframe. How in hell had that happened? He shook his head then forced himself back into action. No sense wasting time on things he couldn't change where there were a hundred and one things he could. "Okay Toby, I see your point. Go help Askey with fire detail. I don't wanna see your face again until they're all out."

"Sure Chief!"

For a moment he stared after the young man, openly marvelling at his ability to stay cheerful under the most horrendous conditions. Only someone who knew Toby's background would understand why. Trip knew and the boy still impressed the hell out of him. One day Toby Weiss would make a damn fine Engineer. Maybe even Chief some day. He was determined to do all he could to see he had his chance. A voice at his shoulder ended his reverie and quickly he snapped back into the present, Lt Hess looking harrassed but determined. He flashed her a quick smile and got her to help him with the warp engine. The hive of activity around him made him so damn proud. No one was complaining, no one shirking their duty. Every one of these people were worth their weight in gold. He hoped they would all survive so he could tell them so to their faces.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol stared at the Ensign. Even Lt Reed could not hide his surprise. Only Travis Mayweather seemed to take her comment in his stride. But then he was a boomer and by all accounts nothing surprised those spare faring fanatics. Whole colonies living aboard transport ships. It was said that if you stuck a boomer on solid land for any length of time he would grow sick and loose the will to live. Only a blanket of stars would revive them. Only the vast maw of space could ever be home.

"Ensign Sato, I hardly think attempts at telepathic contact are called for. If the Xindi wished to contact us they would have done so in the traditional manner."

The communications officer shook her head. "I'm sorry, Sub-Commander, but I don't agree. The Xindi use verbal contact protocols and procedures because other species do."

"Explain."

"After the Commander suggested the possibility I got to thinking and that was when I realised that all the information we have on them, and all we could glean while we've been in the Expanse, has been written by others. Not one jot of information has come from the Xindi themselves."

"I fail to see what bearing that has on your theory, Ensign."

"Dialogue, Sub-Commander, is a two-way street. This information is one-way. What if the reason for that is that the verbal form of communication is an accommodation? What if they sub-vocalise when they are speaking to each other?"

"Ensign, while your theory holds novelty value this is hardly the occasion to test it in practice. They are trying to annihilate us not educate us."

"It may be the same thing to them."

Sub-Commander T'Pol began to turn away in a plain dismissal of the subject. Hoshi quickly pressed on, not wanting to lose this chance however unlikely and far fetched it might seem.

"Please, Sub-Commander. At least let me try?"

The Vulcan stared at the Ensign. Why not? Nothing they were trying was having any effect and although the torpedoes were doing damage to the Xindi vessel they themselves were quickly being rendered defenceless. Soon it would not matter what type of communication they tried. "Very well but do not be disappointed if you obtain no response."

Hoshi nodded her thanks and opened a channel to the Xindi ship. Instead of talking into the com she schooled her thoughts and began to project not only the message she wished to pass but images of peace and a willingness to communicate. At first nothing happened. T'Pol resisted the temptation to say *I told you so*. Then the barrage stopped. The sudden silence hurt their ears. Lt Reed stared at Hoshi. "What did you say?"

The Ensign ignored him, a look of such concentration on her face that no one else spoke. All eyes glued to hers while waiting for some kind of explanation. A slow smile washed over Hoshi's face then she opened her eyes and beamed at them. "They have agreed to stop firing."

Sub-Commander T'Pol was amazed. "What did they say?"

"They want to speak to you."

She blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, Sub-Commander."

T'Pol was about to walk over to Hoshi's station when there was a soft thrumming in the air, the vibration stirring the smoky atmosphere so that it took a moment to realise that something else was appearing on the bridge. Not a figment of their imagination but a figure solidifying right before their very eyes. Hoshi's mouth dropped open. It was a Xindi male. It looked like a big insect, the mandibles flexing and opening and closing but no sound coming from it. Large compound eyes stared at them one at a time then rested on Hoshi's face. Hoshi inclined her head to let the Xindi know it was her that had sent the communication. *You opened your mind to us?*

She nodded. *Yes. We do not want to fight you*

*You were following us. Why?*

*You have our Captain. We want him back*

*And if he is dead?*

Hoshi almost cried out, horror showing on her face. The Sub-Commander was about to interrupt but Hoshi shook her head at her and forced herself to become composed again. *We would ask for his body to be returned to us*

A slight pause followed. The Xindi appeared to be digesting that information. *You care for your dead?*

Another nod. *Yes*

*Why? They are dead, they can no longer contribute to life*

*We honour them in death as we do in life. It is our custom*

*Who commands your ship now?*

*Sub-Commander T'Pol* Hoshi indicated the Vulcan.

The insectoid Xindi turned and fixed its' large compound eyes on T'Pol. *You are T'Pol of Vulcan?*

Sub-Commander T'Pol felt surprise as the alien thought interjected itself in her conscious mind. It felt somewhat oily and made her want to shudder with revulsion but she surpressed the emotion. *Yes*

The Xindi took a step towards her then stopped. *Good*

Before anyone could do or say anything the smoky atmosphere thickened. There was a lot of choking and Lt Reed was cursing aloud when suddenly the smoke cleared and everyone gasped. The Xindi was nowhere in sight and to Hoshi's consternation the Sub-Commander was gone as well.

***

The Captain blinked. Slowly and painfully adjusting to the light though the Xindi Captain had been careful to raise the light level slowly. Captain Archer appreciated his thoughtfulness almost as much as he was baffled by it. Why all the courtesy? Why the concern for his welfare and the survival of his species when they were enemies? The Xindi Captain interrupted his chaotic train of thoughts.

"Not all of us are your enemy."

That made him pause. "They aren't?"

The Xindi did not respond, the answer being so obvious even a sensation deprived Captain should be able to tell. But he was polite enough not to point it out. Captain Archer sat up, somewhat surprised to find that he was still wearing his Starfleet uniform. This had to be one up to being coating in that awful white semi translucent gel from that alien organism that had tried to bond with him and some of his crew almost killing them in the process. That wasn't his enemy either. Could there be an odd recurring pattern here?

"Forgive me if I sound sceptical but why aren't you my enemy? The other Xindi seem quite happy to destroy my people and my planet."

For a moment the reptillian Xindi just looked at him. Captain Archer had no idea what was running through the alien's mind. Perhaps he was better off not knowing. "Not all Xindi want war."

"No, I can concede that..."

"And not all want peace."

Captain Archer stared at him. Needing to know exactly what this alien was saying.

"The Makers have been good to us. Patient. Endlessly patient."

Something in the reptillian's face changed but Captain Archer was not quick enough to detect what it was. His curiosity increased but he kept silent. Not wanting to stop the Xindi Captain now that he was talking so freely.

"My people believe they created us, long long ago."

"But you don't?"

"I am cautious. Long minded."

"Long minded? What's that?"

"It means I do nothing in haste." Captain Archer nodded and waited for him to continue. "I watched the others giving deference to the Makers, no longer thinking for themselves but waiting to be told what to do. Where to go. What to create." He paused. "What to *think*."

He thought he understood now. "You were being manipulated."

The Xindi Captain inclined his head. "Yes. And I did not like it. Did not like how weak it made us. Dependent. Before we had been free."

"Before?"

"The others either don't remember or choose to forget."

"You mean before the Makers came?"

"Yes."

"These Makers, do you mean the Zenari?"

The Xindi Captain jerked back as if he had been shot. For long moments neither spoke, just staring at each other. There was a harsh rasping sound before the Xindi spoke again. "You have met the Makers?"

"We have met the Zenari." Corrected Captain Archer carefully. "They manipulated us. Invited us down to their planet--Zeon--and then began to play mind games with us. They frighten us. They are very powerful, technologically advanced. Not carbon based lifeforms like us. I'm not even sure if they are corporeal."

The Xindi Captain nodded. Some of the vibrancy seemed to have gone out of him. If he did not know better Captain Archer would have said he was depressed. "Would you not be depressed also, Captain, if your peoples had been enslaved by a myth?"

"You can read my mind?"

"Thoughts are things as much as words and deeds are. Are you not telepathic?"

Captain Archer shook his head. "No. I take it you are?"

"Yes. All Xindi have telepathic abilities. For some they are limited only to use among our own kind but sometimes we meet species with more open minds. Their thoughts leak out and we cannot help but know what they are thinking."

"I wanted to destroy you."

"I know."

"After your attack on Earth, my homeworld, and the threat to kill Humanity..." He broke off feeling the pain all over again. Remembering his friend Trip's face, the agony of loss. So many wiped out in an unfeeling heartbeat.

"We were told Humans would be our future doom."

"But how could you believe..."

"The Makers are master manipulators. They have been manipulating us for centuries, Captain. The others do not see it. They revere them, call them Makers, treat them as Gods."

Captain Archer tilted his head, genuinely curious. "What makes you different?"

"I refuse to give up my independence of thought. I watch, listen, obey, but always I think about what we are doing and why we are doing it. It has made me suspicious as more events fit the emerging pattern."

"What emerging pattern?"

He surprised the Captain by not answering his question. "You are no threat to us."

"You spoke of an emerging pattern?"

For a moment Captain Archer thought the Xindi was not going to reply. "I will not be part of another annihilation." He said with quiet intense passion.

Captain Archer was shocked, the import sinking in to devastating effect. "Oh my God, this has happened before!"

"Yes. Another explorer race. They tried to pass through the sacred space of the Expanse. Once they entered they could not leave."

"Why do you call this 'sacred space'?"

The Xindi's double eyelids blinked one after the other, washing moisture over the eyes before he spoke. "The Expanse is not like normal space, Captain. It has properties--unusual properties--that change the nature of the area you pass through. Journeys can take fractions of a second or last several lifetimes yet the same distance is passed."

"I don't understand."

"The Zenari--our 'Makers'--have manipulated that too."

"Then..."

"We are trapped." Said the reptillian Xindi Captain in a soft almost sibilant whisper. "Just like you."


	24. Masters Of The Void

It was steaming hot. Commander Tucker had no way to bring down the rising level of heat. With so many systems out or malfunctioning he had to concentrate on stabilising life support then work on getting the warp engines back on line. No mean task under the current circumstances. Dirty, soaked through with sweat and streaked with oil he was no cleaner than the rest of his crew. Life support would soon be functioning and then they could bleed off some of the heat and make life a little more bearable while they applied themselves to the bigger headache of repairing the engines. A nightmare. That's what it was.

Lt Anna Hess came looking for him, her face creased in worry. The Commander hardly spared her a glance as he worked. Toby and Rostov picking up his slack as he beavered away, hands slipping off his tools as he worked, rapping his knuckles and drawing colourful curses half under his breath. They were all beginning to tire but no one dared to slow down or take a rest. "Sir?"

"Yeah, what is it Anna?"

She hesitated. The Commander continued working. Lt Hess listened to the clang of the spanner hitting the side of the casing everytime the Commander's fingers slipped. "Lt Reed asked me to tell you..."

"Tell me what? Spit it out, Lieutenant."

This time she did something she would not normally do and placed a hand on his arm. Surprised, Trip slid back and lifted his head making eye contact. The worry on her face stopped a sarcastic retort from rolling off his tongue. He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"It's the Sub-Commander."

Alarm shot through him impaling his heart in a thousand places. *T'Pol? What's goin' on?* Her silence frightened him. He scrambled to his feet. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "I don't know know sir but Lt Reed said to tell you they've taken the Sub-Commander."

Almost his heart stopped beating. His face actually paled despite how hot it was and how much he was perspiring. "How the hell did they do that?"

Lt Hess ignored the angry snap to his voice knowing it was fueled by worry and not aimed at her. "I don't know, sir."

Trip went to the com and spoke as soon as he opened a channel. "Commander Tucker to Lt Reed, how in hell did the Xindi get hold'a the Sub-Commander?"

His friend's voice came back cool and calm but with an undercurrent to it that told Trip the Armoury Officer was definitely rattled. "The Xindi just appeared on the bridge, spoke to the Sub-Commander telepathically, then both of them dematerialised."

The Commander's mouth dropped open in stunned surprise. The Xindi were telephathic? Holy shit, what else were they going to find out about these bastards? Malcolm's voice cut through his sense of shock.

"Commander, we could use your presence on the bridge."

The Chief Engineer cast a baleful look at the sealed door. "Uh, we seemed to be locked down tight here Lieutenant but I may be able to find a way through the jeffries tubes if they've maintained integrity."

He could hear the worry in Lt Reed's voice. "What do you mean 'if they've maintained integrity'? And how exactly are you trapped?"

"Beats me, somehow the platin' round the door got all warped--ceiling too. I feel like I'm in a tin can that's meltin' all around me."

"Bloody hell, Commander. Isn't there something you can do?"

Trip fell silent, biting down on his bottom lip so as not to go off into a rage. He counted silently to ten and then counted another ten because it was hard to stay calm. He had to, not for himself but for T'Pol. *Anything* for T'Pol. If that meant swallowing some anger and pride along the way he would do that too. Right now he had to stay in control so he could think clearly and he couldn't do that if he flew off the handle in a blinding rage. Besides. None of this mess was Malcolm's fault. If it was anybody's it was his. After all. Hadn't he been the one to suggest that the damn Xindi might be telepathic? He was quiet for so long that Lt Reed's agitated voice made him jump.

"Commander? Trip? Are you alright?"

He took a deep breath. *No, Malcolm, I am NOT alright. I am terrified for T'Pol and though I know I said it looked more an' more as if this was gonna be a one-way trip I didn't expect the end to come so soon*. But he could hardly say that to his friend now. Swallowing hard he forced the words out through gritted teeth. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let me know the moment ya hear somethin'. In the meantime I'll try to find a way up to the bridge."

He was about to stride away from the com when the Lieutenant's voice gave him pause. He sounded more concilliatory, his voice softened with worry and concern. "Be careful, Commander. If it looks too dicey to come up I'd rather have you trapped down there in relative safety that islolated and cut off from us elsewhere in the ship."

Surprised to hear it put so baldly Trip did not make any sarcastic quips. They were all on edge. "Sure thing, Lieutenant. In the meantime you have control of the bridge. Do whatever ya think is right until I can get back to ya."

"Understood, sir. Reed out."

Trip ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair and turned, his anxious eyes meeting the same look of quiet desperation in Lt Hess's gaze. He sighed quietly, not wanting to alarm his team. "Let's get back to work, Anna. I'm gonna check out the jeffries tube, see if it's clear enough to give me a way to the bridge. Your priority is to the get the warp engine back on line now that we have life support stabilised."

She nodded but paused. "Sir?"

He turned back to her. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Don't go alone."

"Lieutenant, I'll be careful."

She shook her head. "No, sir, it's not that."

He frowned. "Then what is it?"

"Take someone with you, sir. If you get caught out it may be the only way to let us know."

Their eyes met in mutual understanding. He gave her a curt nod and as he turned to walk away from her snapped out a single word. Half-command, half-request. "Toby!"

***

The Ambassador was deep in thought. Reports back were initially exactly as expected but this new development was a surprise. And he had not been surprised in decades. He was in the Grand Audience Chamber, his heavy cloak whispering lies across the crystal floor. His thoughts echoed up like rising bubbles from the depths of a mind that no body could contain. It fomented in the non-corporeal consciousness that sailed this dark exotic sea. Thoughts that travelled outward and inward and juggled atoms and sub-atomic particles with such ease that it was an automatic response to arrange them as he pleased. A permanent yaw in creation that could be likened to a physical body passing through a diaphanous curtain and causing the material to flow outward around him then drift back to form a cloak that was almost intuitive in its' level of mute response. There was a natural flow in the way the expanse accommodated their kind. Not by crude physical displacement but by mental acuity. Subtle forces that bound this part of the universe in a many layered confection that existed only to be fashioned by their will.

The first thought was to annihilate this new development. Allow no fledgling threat however doomed to failure it might be. Yet he was intrigued. The thought that any of the Xindi could form thoughts separate from their collective overview was delicious to him. After all, with the outcome assured there was no rush to reach completion. They had the seas of eternity to sail and this was not even a mild squall upon the horizon of that vast and endless journey of time. These Humans were not like any other species they had encountered. They reached out, formed connections however unlikely with denizens from other worlds with whom they had little or nothing in common. In the broader spectrum of alien existence this was a rare thing. Those who were different invariably chose one of two options. To fight to the death or to stay as far away from each other as possible. This unexpected openness to new cultures gave him pause for thought. Let the Human think he could influence the outcome. In the meantime they still had to find out more from the Vulcan and time was something they could expand to fill the vacuum of knowledge while waiting for revelation to fill the cup.

Ambassador Chot felt a dark satisfaction brewing. Inhaled with his senses and reached out to his major domo with instructions to bring the Vulcan to Zeon. They needed to find the link. Discover the extent of the progression then make a decision. The visions written in future events could guide the severing of outcomes until new connections were formed. But first. First he would drink from that cup. Savour all the flavours that mixed and swirled within it. The most important element at this point in time was the Vulcan.

***

The Xindi Captain sounded almost nervous but Captain Archer could not be sure. Did not want to assume anything especially where the lives of his crew were concerned. Plus they still had a mission. One that was looking less and less likely to have a successful conclusion. Yet. He lived. New information was giving him the first stirrings of hope. He dared not embrace it too keenly, knowing now that the Zenari manipulated people and things. And the Xindi were nothing if not avid protege. He could not afford to fall into the trap of trusting this man. No matter how much he wanted to. "Shouldn't we speak with the others?"

"They will not listen."

"You did."

The Xindi Captain stared at the Human. Yes, he had listened. Already he was having second and third thoughts. What was he doing?

Captain Archer's voice softened. "Why?"

"I told you." He rasped.

When the Xindi Captain did not continue he dared to make a request. "Untie me."

"You are not tied."

"You know what I mean. I can't move. What have you done to me?"

"You have not been permanently harmed. You are bound. I have released your senses."

"What?"

"Your senses. We blocked them."

"Sensory deprivation? Why would you do that?"

"It makes the mind easy to navigate. Thoughts are scanned with great ease and precision. There is no opposition thus no need to rip from your mind that which we seek."

"What is it you seek?"

The Xindi Captain fell silent. Captain Archer felt his frustration building.

"If you won't tell me and you admit you've released my mind why not my body? What threat am I to you?"

It was the last question that had been racing through the reptillian brain of the Xindi Captain. "You as a Human are no threat." He half hissed and half rumbled.

"Then let me go."

For the longest time Captain Archer thought he had blown it. Been too insistent too soon. Then the Xindi Captain tilted his head and a strange gutteral slurring sound came from his throat mixed with clicks and an almost mewing sound that quickly broke off. Like a puppet with his strings suddenly cut, he fell to the ground. Knees bruising as they hit the deck but oh, it was such a satisfactory feeling. Even the sound of his groan at the impact was joy to his ears. He allowed himself the brief luxury of resting his hands on the deck before carefully getting to his feet. Oddly enough he did not hurt, the aching he had expected to feel was absent. He looked at his captor and hopefully saviour. "What now?"

"Now we do as you wished. We speak to the others."

A brief stab of alarm shot through him but he pushed the fear to the back of his mind. If he was going to get out of this he needed to speak to them. Convince them that Humans were no threat. He had been released and he would do whatever it took to get his ship and crew free. There simply was no other option.

***

They made good progress climbing up the jeffries tubes. Trip began to feel a slight lightening of his heart. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Behind him he heard Toby Weiss huffing. It was really hot in here, no cooling air ducts to assist their passage. Trip had made the priority all the working and living spaces on the ship. That did not include the jeffries tubes which were left on minimal life support. Fortunately they were passing intersections quite frequently and at those points recycled air did flow albeit sluggishly. It was enough to revive them when the heat and threat of suffocation got too bad. They spoke little, chests heaving as they hauled themselves up rung after rung of the inbuilt ladders. Sentences reduced to single word questions and answers. A grunt, a nod, a shifting of body mass replacing whole paragraphs.

The relief when they finally reached the bridge was almost comical. Trip flopped out of the access panel and half lay, half sat, on the floor getting cooler air into his flagging lungs. Beside him Toby Weiss dropped to his knees and hung his head doing the same. In a moment Lt Reed was kneeling beside them, his look anxious. "Are you alright?"

Trip nodded. It took several more deep breaths to get enough air into his lungs to manage speech beyond the pain barrier in his chest. "Yeah," He gasped. "Just not a lot of air in the tubes."

Lt Reed frowned. "You should have said, we could have diverted some."

The Commander was already shaking his head. Travis helped Toby to his feet and Lt Reed offered Trip his hand. They stood on shaky legs. Trip leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees until he had recovered sufficiently to stand upright. Toby was panting heavily beside him, his face ruddy with effort and his uniform soaked through with perspiration. He gave the boy a grin, knowing he looked just as dirty and dishevelled as his ensign. He looked at Lt Reed. "Okay, Lieutenant, what we got?"

The Armoury Officer filled in him on everything that had happened. Trip listened in silence, his heart aching, his anger threatening to spill over the thin remanants of self control that currently kept him sane. He glared at the view screen. "I want ya to open a hailing channel to the Xindi."

Hoshi looked concerned but he was not looking at her. All his focus on the ship in their veiw screen. Ensign Sato risked a glance towards Lt Reed. A barely perceptible nod told her to go ahead. Not that she would not have done so anyway but it did reassure her knowing that the Lieutenant agreed the Commander's decision. With hands that shook just a little, she opened a channel then held her breath.

***

The Chancellor was happy. He watched the Vulcan's stoic expression and tested his thoughts in her mind. The inward flinch was slight but enough to tell him that his presence was far from welcome. It brought a grin of pleasure to a face that seldom smiled either inwardly or outwardly.

"What do you intend to do with me?"

*Why so formal, T'Pol of Vulcan? We are in your mind, you need not speak aloud*

T'Pol glared at him and continued speaking aloud. Refusing them the intimacy of automatic communication. It irritated the insectoid Xindi who now had to hear her through their communication devices but the Chancellor was amused. His thoughts savoured the notion of mental communion being an intimacy. *Who is your bond mate?*

She was almost surprised into replying in kind. "You are mistaken. I am not bonded."

"Lies!" Hissed the insectoid Xindi. "Even without touching your mind I can read the obfuscation you think to trick us with. Veil your thoughts all you want, Vulcan, your mind cannot defy us."

The mammalian Xindi was watching her closely while his aquatic cousins moved closer to the glass to stare silently at her. If she had been Human she would have found the whole experience more than a little creepy. Certainly Commander Tucker would be most dicomfitted. The Chancellor raised his head, eyes glinting. "Who is Commander Tucker?"

As quick as a spring loaded hatch shutting the Sub-Commander buried her thoughts of him deep. Locked away, compartmentalised, hidden like a box within a box. Buried so deep that even disecting her brain would not find it. "A member of our crew."

The Chancellor leaned towards her. "You are *intimate* with him?"

She summoned up anger to hide her sense of shock. "He is Human."

"Yes, and you are Vulcan." He paused. The aquatic Xindi had stilled its' movements, all focus was on the Vulcan to the exclusion even of its' own cousins.

After several moments of silence the mammalian Xindi gave a satisfied nod and looked at their aquatic cousin. Telepathically they had reached the same conclusion. "You have bonded with a Human."

It was not a question. Despite her mental control T'Pol felt a sense of deep shock. They *knew*. How in the name of Surak could they know and why did she have the terrible feeling that it was something they had been seeking? The insectoid Xindi waved his limbs managing to impart a sense of impatience mixed with excitement. She realised he was experiencing pleasure. "Now we will destroy their vessel."

"No!"

The cry from T'Pol's throat was an unexpected and rare display of emotion. It was coupled with the surprise of hearing it echoed in a familiar voice once thought lost. In shock she turned her head and found herself looking into Captain Archer's eyes. He was somewhat the worse for wear but was not limping. Bloody smudges on his face highlighted the gaunt almost haunted look in his eyes. Beside him stood the Xindi Captain. As their thoughts mixed in a flurry of mental activity the air around them grew cloudy. T'Pol felt her senses coming under determined assault. Expertly she blocked all attempts at intrusion then a sudden sharp spike of pain brought her to her knees. Captain Archer tried to reach her but the Xindi Captain stopped him easily with a hand on his arm. Weakened by his time spent bound in sensory deprivation he was not able to shake the hand off in time before Sub-Commander T'Pol's body began to become indistinct. His throat tightened with something close to panic. There was a partial materialisation beside the Sub-Commander. Captain Archer thought it looked like one of the Zenari.

Then. To his utter consternation both the materialising Ambassador and Sub-Commander T'Pol disappeared. In the stunned silence that followed Captain Archer found himself surrounded by enemies.

***

Sub-Commander T'Pol blinked. Confusion then deep concern flooded her consciousness. She knew where she was at once. On the Zenari homeworld. They were in the Grand Audience Chamber. Before her stood the Ambassador. Without speaking or moving he seemed to impress upon her the need to walk with him to the dias. As they walked T'Pol turned her head to take in the totality of her surroundings. Wondering what was going on and why she had been brought here.

When they reached the dias they both stopped. Ambassador Chot turned to face her. "Do you know why you are here, T'Pol of Vulcan?"

She arched her eyebrows at him. Back stiff, eyes cold. "No."

"Do you know why we are interested in you?"

The admission surprised her. "No."

"You will."

She was tempted to question those words but forebore. What was going on? What did any of this have to do with her? The Ambassador answered her unspoken thoughts.

"You have bonded with a Human."

"Even if that were true why would it be of interest to you?"

"*Everything* is of interest to us in this sacred space. A place which you and your human companions have entered uninvitated."

"We did not know it was occupied."

She sensed some dark kind of humour in him but before she could attempt to analyse it the mood in the room shifted and the Ambassador lifted both his arms. She could not see his hands for the vast voluminous sleeves that draped along arms and hands. Was it her imagination or did the cloak he wore give off blue sparks and little tongues like forks of lightening as he moved?

***

The Commander was about to ask Ensign Sato to hail them again when the screen showed the face of the Xindi Captain. Everyone on the bridge held their breath. The Xindi Captain was speaking, only a second's delay brought his mouth out of synch with his translated words. "You wish the return of your Captain?"

Trip was astounded. Had they read his mind? He made himself as calm as he could before trusting himself to speak. He gave a cautious nod. "Yeah, an' our Sub-Commander."

His heart was beating so fast he hoped he was not having a heart attack. The Xindi Captain's words had given him hope that the Captain was still alive and that was something. The Xindi Captain tilted his face as he silently observed the Commander. Trip had no idea what he was thinking. Wished the whole telepathic kick included him. Not that he wanted Xindi inside his head but he wanted to know what they were thinking when he was in their presence. He felt that lack disadvantaged him. A bad thing when dealing with an enemy.

"Your Captain wants us to free the crew and his ship."

Trip nodded cautiously and said nothing. Not sure where this was leading. Then to his surprise the image opened out and he could clearly see all five species of Xindi. But what made his mouth drop open in unmitigated joy was the sight of Captain Archer standing next to the Xindi Captain. Trip bit back tears of relief. "Cap'n! You okay?"

Before Captain Archer could respond the Chancellor interrupted. "Your Captain is well--for now."

"What the hell does that mean?" Snapped Trip without thinking.

There was a very brief pause. Trip tried to calm down, angry with himself for losing control. Praying that Jon would not have to pay the price of his outburst. "You have something we want, Commander Tucker."

He did not wonder how they knew his name. Assumed the Captain or T'Pol had told them. Wondered why he couldn't see the Sub-Commander. Maybe she was standing just out of camera range. "What's that?"

"And we have something you want."

Trip could not argue with that.

"We propose a trade." Said the mammalian Xindi.

There was a look on his face that the Commander did not like. He could almost hear Lt Reed telling him not to trust them. "What kind'a trade?"

They did not answer but turned to face Captain Archer. The Xindi Captain conferred mentally with his cousins, a connection from the surface of Zeon telling them what they should do. Agreement was swift and unequivocal. They left it to the Xindi Captain to tell the Human. "What would you give to free your ship and crew, Captain Archer?"

Trip's eyes narrowed, hands clenched into fists at his side. Everyone on the bridge tensing for their Captain's reply. "Anything."

The Xindi Captain nodded once. "Then we will make an exchange."

Alarmed, Captain Archer began to ask for more details. The Xindi Captain stopped him with words all too familiar to the crew of Enterprise by now. "Is there not a saying that 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?"

Captain Archer nodded slowly, his eyes fixed like hot coals on the Xindi Captain's face. "There is but it's a Vulcan saying. I'm Human."

"Then it is appropriate."

Before anyone could say or do anything the bridge begin to thicken with a white mist. Trip waved his arms in front of him to try to clear it so he could see what was going on. He felt a brief wave of nausea, closed his eyes and tried to bite back the urge to be violently sick. On the bridge of the Xindi vessel Captain Archer felt suddenly dizzy, closed his eyes briefly and opened them to a thick white cloudy mist. "What the...?"

When the mist cleared he was stunned to find himself back on the bridge of Enterprise. His crew stared at him with their mouths open but any pleasure he might have expected to see on their faces at his safe return was marred by one simple fact. Commander Tucker was no longer on the bridge. The Xindi had made an exchange and taken the Commander. Sub-Commander T'Pol was still missing. Angrily, Captain Archer glared at the viewscreen. The Xindi Captain was the only person filling the screen now. He could not see who else was on the bridge or what the rest of the Xindi were doing. He did not speak but gave a slow solemn nod then the viewscreen went blank.

Lt Reed looked up in anguish from his duty station. "Captain, the Xindi ship has just gone to warp."

"What?" Captain Archer spun round to face his Armoury Officer. "Follow them!"

"Sir, I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Captain Archer was tired, traumatised and wound up so tight that he wanted to hit something. He bit off every word as if sinking his teeth into a Xindi neck and snapping it. "Why not?"

"We no longer have warp capability."


	25. The Mother of Invention

He could not believe this was happening to him. Commander Tucker stared at the ring of Xindi in shock then horror. No two faces were the same. They had worked out that there were at least five different species of Xindi. What he saw now blew that notion clean out of the water and no mistake. He swallowed slowly, his throat so dry it was like sandpaper. "Where the hell am I?"

***

Lt Reed was anxious and using every atom of control to remain as calm as possible. They were in the situation room discussing what to do to rescue the Commander and Sub-Commander. Captain Archer seemed distant, distracted, and the Armoury Officer could not put into words how much that unsettled him. As well as Ensigns Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather they were joined by Lt Hess and Dr Phlox. The Captain turned and paused then looked directly at Lt Reed. His expression as grim as he had ever seen it. "Their trail Lieutenant, can we follow it?"

Malcolm wanted to kick himself three times around Alpha Centauri but he would do his Captain no great service by lying to him. Only the truth would suffice. He shook his head ruefully. "No, sir. Shortly after they went to warp whatever trail there was vanished."

"What about their trajectory?"

"I've plotted a number of possibilities, sir, but that's always supposing they travel only in a straight line. We don't know how far they will go at warp or where they are heading for."

The Captain noticed that the doctor looked uncomfortable. "Doctor, do you have something to say?"

"Yes, Captain, I do though I wish it were good news."

Captain Archer frowned. "Go on."

"The Zenari have offered to let Enterprise and her crew go. I suggest we do just that and as quickly as possible."

The Captain's eyes grew stormy, anger about to errupt but the doctor held up a staying hand.

"I do not make this suggestion lightly, Captain, but there is more at stake than this ship and her crew."

"Yes, there are the lives of my Chief Engineer and Science Officer."

"Captain, we still have a mission to perform."

"I'm well aware of that!" Snapped the Captain.

"And," Continued Dr Phlox carefully. "We can do them no good by looking for them in the conventional way."

"What does that mean? Do you have an alternative in mind?"

"No Captain, I do not but the Xindi are unlikely to follow a trajectory that mirrors their point of exit."

Everyone was frowning now. Travis spoke up. "You've lost me, doctor."

"Exactly." Said the Denobulan. He straightened as if stretching his back then explained. "If we try to follow them we will *be* lost."

"Doctor, while I was aboard their ship the Xindi Captain said we were trapped in the Expanse *just like them*. If that's the case how can we get lost?"

"The Delphic Expanse has unusual properties." He paused as if weighing his next words carefully. "Have you ever played three dimensional chess?"

The Captain blinked, stared hard at the doctor. This was getting less and less amusing by the minute.

"Please Captain, there is an important point I wish to make."

"Very well, yes I have. Why?"

"To simplify the analogy, consider the Expanse like a three dimensional board game only now expand that to infinity. Imagine levels upon levels upon levels. Remember the fabric of time here can be stretched and folded. It can also be compressed and rolled so that events can be caught in their own circumpolar orbit but instead of a stellar equation the gravimetric constant keeps changing. In short Captain, they cannot be predicted. We are at the mercy of forces that defy not only logic but every law of physics you can imagine."

The Captain looked numb. "Are you saying there's no way out?"

"On the contrary Captain, there are infinite numbers of exits but we have no way of telling how many actually go anywhere."

"Then how can they be exits?" Queried Lt Reed.

Impossibly the Denobulan gave a slight smile. "Ah, the horns of the dilemna, Lieutenant."

"Right now I'd settle for some plain speaking doctor." Said the Captain evenly.

"Yes, quite." Dr Phlox paused. "I apologise but my first pronouncement is - I believe - the correct one. We should leave while we still can Captain."

"I am *not* going anywhere without Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol!"

"Yes, I realise that..."

Captain Archer took an angry step towards the good doctor who paused mid-sentence. "No, I don't think you do. We are not, I repeat NOT, leaving any of our crew behind. Do I make myself clear?"

"Captain..."

"Do I make myself CLEAR?" Said the Captain firmly, each word all but underlined in emphasis to make his point. The Denobulan nodded, he looked sad and a little upset.

"Quite clear."

The Captain glanced around at what was now his command staff. "Any other suggestions?" When no one said anything he turned to Hoshi. "Ensign Sato."

"Yes, sir?"

"I want you send a request out, on all hailing freqencies, requesting the Xindi return our missing crew members. I want you to broadcast that message in every variation of their language you can decipher."

Ensign Sato frowned but nodded. "Yes, sir." It would take her hours to set it up but if it would help bring Trip and T'Pol back she would do it.

"And Ensign?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Enlist as many crew members as you need to assist with the task."

She nodded. The Captain dismissed everyone and waited until only the doctor and Lt Reed remained. He raised an eyebrow at the doctor who gave a half smile and a slow nod to indicate he had done just fine. "I think a little time in meditation would do us all good, Captain."

The Captain allowed his voice to fill with irritation. "I don't see what good that will do."

"I believe we all need to calm down so that we can think clearly."

A brief nod was the only response then all three of them left the situation room and went not to sickbay but to the doctor's private quarters. As the door shut behind him the doctor smiled at his two confederates. "I believe gentlemen that we will be more comfortable here."

***

She recognised her surroundings immediately but was baffled. What did they hope to gain by siezing her? If they thought Captain Archer would give up just because they had taken her hostage they were very much mistaken. Ambassador Chot all but glided across the crystal floor towards her. She stood straight, her hands clasped behind her back, and raised an imperious brow. "What is the meaning of this, Ambassador?"

"Your Captain would not listen to us."

"The Captain?" She arched her neck and looked around. "He is here?"

"No, Sub-Commander. We have returned him to his ship."

She frowned. "Then why am I here?"

"Do not the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?"

T'Pol angled her head slightly and looked coldly at the Zenari Ambassador. "You are playing games."

She thought she saw his cloak sparkle as he moved slightly, the heavy dark fabric almost seeming to set off sparks at the motion. Curious. "This is no game, Vulcan."

"What do you want?"

"Why would you imagine we want anything?"

"Logically I would not be here otherwise."

"You misunderstand. In your pursuit of logic you overlook motivation."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Enlighten me."

"Ah," His head lifted slightly. "You begin to comprehend."

Confused she stared blankly at him.

"Already you seek to determine answers by reasoning. They will not answer this equation."

"Then do me the courtesy of explaining."

There was a long silence. At last the Ambassador inclined his head but the Sub-Commander had the definite feeling it was not done as a matter of respect. "You will follow me."

Before she could ask why the Ambassador had turned round and was gliding towards the dias at the far end of the room. She had little option but to follow. It would have been illogical not to do so and she needed to glean more information if she was to solve this puzzle. When Ambassador Chot reached the dias he turned to face her once again and this time he actually bowed to her. "Please. Stand upon the dias."

"For what purpose?"

"You are Vulcan."

"This I already know."

"Yet you travel among Humans."

She was not going to answer but when the Ambassador simply waited patiently for a reply she inclined her head. "Yes."

"Why?"

"You know why. The Humans are new to space travel. They are a young race, niave and inclined to haste."

"You shepherd them?"

"We are attempting to acclimatise them to new frontiers in a way which is safe and will not expose them to unnecessary harm."

"The dias, Sub-Commander."

With some reluctance T'Pol stepped up onto the dias and was immediately bathed in a misty light. Alarmed, she went to step down again but found she could not move. The light seemed to hold her immobile. A great lethargy stole through her body and despite her efforts to stay alert her eyes closed. Within seconds she was in a state of deep hibernation. 

The knowledge thus gleaned had sharpened the Ambassador's senses. Opening his mind he called on his Master to appear then bowed low to await his presence. A tremor in his energy field the only sign that he was dicomfitted by what he had discovered. Ambassador Chot waited. Minutes passed into hours. He knew it not. Time was a sequence of events that did not touch him or his kind. Eternity spun in the blink of an eye, the flutter of a wing, the sighing breath of lovers at the point of coitus, the centre of a burning sun and the corona of a comet.

***

When no one spoke Trip got tired of the charade. Patience was never his strong suit anyway. "Just tell me what ya want an' get me back to Enterprise."

None of them responded. He was about to start yelling when a diaphanous mist formed a column not three feet in front of him. Alarmed, he took a hasty step back. "Woah!"

The form looked like a Xindi male. He was reptillian and had a dark glitter of intellience in his eyes. No sooner had he appeared than a mammalian Xindi then an insectoid Xindi appeared. His heart was doing handstands by now, his eyes flicking from side to side but there was no way out. The only good thing was that the crowd of assorted species' variants had made no overt move towards him. He frowned. Something was wrong with this picture. Narrowing his eyes he looked more intently around him.

"What's up with your buddies? If I didn't know better I'd suspect they were shop store dummies. Who are you and where in the hell am I?"

The reptillian Xindi hissed then took a step towards him. "I am the Xindi Captain. You are in the hold of our ship."

Trip nodded to the immobile Xindi. "An' just who're they?"

"Constructs."

He blinked. "Constructs?"

"Your people destroyed our world."

"Now just hold on a second..."

The Chancellor appeared in another column of mist. "We could kill you."

He was really feeling way out of his depth now. Trip swallowed slowly not wanting to give these guys any reason to rip him to pieces before he figured it out. "Where's the Cap'n?"

"Your Captain Archer is back on his ship. We made a trade."

He blinked. "A trade?"

The Xindi Captain inclined his head, watching the Chief Engineer closely. "Yes."

"Why?"

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

That was about the creepiest thing he had heard so far. What in hell were the Xindi doing quoting Surak? Didn't they hate the damn Vulcans? What was going on? "How do I know you let the Cap'n go?"

"You are here."

Trip ignored his spurious logic. He could not help staring around him at the immobile shapes and forms of other more exotic Xindi. It was almost as if he was in someone's workshop and that someone was trying to make a quintessential life form but had lost the plans so was making every variation he could think of until he hit on the right one. His heart almost stopped. That was it! "Oh my God, what in the hell are ya?"

"What do you think we are?"

"Them copies, body doubles ya made of us. It's how you survived isn't it?"

No one answered but he had the feeling they were hanging on his every word. "Please tell me this is just a nightmare an' I'm gonna wake up an' you'll all be one bad dream."

"You are not dreaming, Trip." Said the Xindi Captain.

"It's Commander Tucker to you!" He paused, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Ya didn't answer my question. These other Xindi are body doubles aren't they?"

"No, Commander. They are early attempts. You are looking at their successors."

He took another step back. "What do ya want me for?"

The Xindi Captain matched him step for step, the Chancellor just behind him. The mammalian and insectoid Xindi remained where they were but followed the interaction with their eyes. Content to let their Captain speak for them. "You are flesh and blood. An organic lifeform."

He could not articulate how much these guys were freaking him out. "So are ya."

"We were."

Trip swallowed but seemed to have no moisture left in his mouth or throat. "Were?"

Even to his own ears his voice sounded high pitched. "You destroyed our home world."

"According to you that was 400 years in the future."

"This is the Delphic Expanse, Trip."

"Tell me something I don't know like how to get the hell outta here."

"Time is not a factor here. Past, Future and Present occupy the same singularity. Countless permuations determine time and place."

"Then perhaps I should have asked, *when* am I?"

"Your people destroyed our world. Those that escaped the devastation could not repopulate our world. It was gone and we had insufficient numbers to start again."

"So what're ya sayin'? Ya did a Steve Austin? Ya know, *we can rebuild ya, make ya better than ya were*. Faster, stronger an' so on."

"The Masters helped us. Showed us how to manipulate matter into corporeal constucts but we needed to practice. We ran out of raw materials."

Dimes started to drop into place with a loud echoing clang in his mind. "Is that why ya built the automated repair stations? To lure other species into your net so ya could practice on them?"

"We needed their DNA but many were not suitable so we linked them into the station and used their knowledge to upgrade our facility. Only the most promising we brought here. We paid for everything we took, Trip. They came needing repairs for their ships. Fuel. Food. We gave them what they wanted and we took what we needed. Trade. The needs of the many, Trip."

"Oh my God. I think I feel sick..."

"You can help us, Commander."

Trip shook his head. All the colour had drained from his face. *An' I thought Frankenstein was just a story to scare the kids*. "Uh huh, just send me back to my ship and I'll be outta your hair."

"You cannot go back."

"Ya said time didn't mean anything here, the time an' place could be anywhen, anywhere. So why can't I go back?"

"Your mate will join you if you stay."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"The Vulcan will stay too."

"You leave T'Pol outta this."

"It is too late."

Trip felt his heart miss a beat. "Too late? Why?"

The Xindi Captain paused and tilted his head. In the next moment Trip felt himself engulfed in a white diaphanous mist. He tried to move but couldn't. Alarmed he wanted to cry out, struggle but his energy was failing him. As if it was being bled away and he was powerless to do anything. His eyes grew heavy and before he realised what was happening he slipped into a deep induced hibernation. On Zeon the Master appeared. His dark column of smokey shadow almost solidifying beside the Vulcan on the dias. As the Ambassador watched the Commander then appeared beside T'Pol. Ambassador Chot risked a question. "You will kill them now?"

The reply surprised him. "No."

"Is not this the pair foretold in prophecy, Master?"

"Yes."

"They will destroy us."

"We found them too late for that."

"But we can manipulate time."

"Yes."

"I do not understand."

"The seed is already sewn."

"Then let us destroy it."

"No."

"Why?"

"We need their DNA."

"Master, this is risky. They are carbon based lifeforms."

"The Xindi are dying out. Each successive array of constructs has a shorter span than the last. They grow fragile and they cannot reproduce."

"We let the Humans go, why keep this one?"

"For the Vulcan."

"What if the child dies?"

"We will reuse the foetal tissue. Waste nothing. It is an immutable law. Alone the Human is useless for our purpose. The Vulcan too obstuctive. Together they will create a new species, one we can manipulate to the exercise of our will. They will supercede all that have gone before them."

"Yes, Master."

A long, long silence followed. At last the Master spoke, his voice more concilliatory and tinged with a vague curiosity. "You are upset?"

"They are no threat to us are they Master?" He asked quietly as realisation dawned.

"No, but their offspring will be."

"Then why permit them to survive? To flourish in the void?"

"Because if we are there at their inception we can manipulate their genes. Though it take a million years we will populate the void and remake them in our image."

The Ambassador almost choked at the blasphemy. "Master, we cannot... The prophecy..."

"We created the prophecy, Ambassador. Do you not yet understand? We can rewrite it, fashion it to our purpose. The seed from the Vulcan needs the Human spore. We will once again create life."

Choking off any further words the Ambassador fell silent. Shock seared through him as he understood fully the fashion of the Makers. He was incapable of tears. Unable to feel regret. Yet some organic remnant lingered on. Just enough to leave him with something akin to sorrow.


	26. Resistance

Captain Archer had reservations. Too many of them to count. But he trusted his people. Had faith in Dr Phlox. Plus Malcolm trusted the Denobulan too and he had long since discovered the depth and breadth of the Armoury Officer's loyalty had no equal. Plus he knew Lt Reed would do nothing to endanger Commander Tucker or Sub-Commander T'Pol. Their experiences down on the Zenari planet had formed a quite unique bond between them and the Denobulan but Captain Archer was well aware there was much he still did not know. The idea of joining that select group and experiencing it first hand was both enticing and terrifying. He was not a man who liked to give up control. Even if he was among friends.

"What do we do?"

Dr Phlox had the ghost of a smile on his face. Quickly he became serious. "We should make ourselves comfortable gentlemen, that is what the cushions are for."

Captain Archer frowned. "You want us to sit on the floor?"

The doctor almost laughed at the Captain's faintly affronted tone. "I assure you it is quite normal. We are *meditating* Captain and it is best if the body is able to relax."

He knew he was being foolish but nerves could do that to a man. Lt Reed gave a solemn nod and sat crossed legged on one of the large cushions. The doctor waited for the Captain to sit then followed suit.

"Now I want you to breathe deeply, evenly, feel that breath inflate your body. Listen to my voice and block out anything else..."

Without thinking the Captain closed his eyes and did as he was told. Dr Phlox carefully monitoring both men as their breathing deepened and he took them into a light trance state. As he did so he could feel Lt Reed in his mind and smiled. The two of them joined forces to ease the Captain into the deeper state with them. He did not stop until they had gone far deeper than human levels of awareness could accomplish alone. They not only needed to commune effectively, they needed to do so in a way which could not be detected. They could not afford for the Zenari to pick up their thoughts. The lives of their two missing comrades depended on it.

*Captain?"

Captain Archer was shocked to hear the doctor's voice in his mind. So clear yet with a quality to it that was not only soothing and reassuring but filled with the emotional heart of the man. It was a little unnerving to realise that communion on this level was rather like having a conversation with your clothes off. As if the mind itself was stripped naked of the artifice used in daily life to enable thoughts to be composed and constructed in a manner that would have the most desired outcome. Here, in this state, that was impossible. A cold word spoken externally while awake and conscious was simply a cold word. Here it would acquire all the depth and feeling of the true thoughts and emotions behind it. It could be devastatingly revealing. Raw emotion disclosing raw thoughts. It disturbed and attracted him in equal measure. It was also somewhat liberating. *I can hear you, in my mind.* He paused, needing to adjust to absorb this new intimacy. *I didn't think it could be so easy*

*Normally it isn't* Said the doctor without a hint of smugness or superiority. *But both myself and Malcolm have used this form of communication before*

*It really is quite enlightening, Captain* Thought Lt Reed.

The Captain was about to agree when he felt the Lieutenant smile. Captivated by the sheer novelty of it he thought it was one of the most beautiful sensations he could imagine. He felt a wash of warm humour from the doctor.

*Imagine how this must feel if you are making love, Captain*

He almost choked. His companions laughed lightly, their tones not really mocking him just enjoying his brief discomfort. Lt Reed well empathised having felt the same when he first was drawn into this very deep meditative state. *What happens now?* The Captain asked as he struggled to get back on track.

*Now* Said the doctor seriously. *We attempt to contact our friends*

***

Ambassador Chot knew there was nothing he could do but the truth was a revelation that left his entire existence hanging from a poison thread. He had believed without question every thing the Master had told him. They all had. He had believed the Xindi were a niave species that had been taken under the Master's wing through the good offices of his servants, the Zenari. To learn that everything was an advanced manipulation not only of time, space and matter but also of thoughts and emotions was a step beyond any he thought the Master would take. Was he not beloved of the Creator? Did not each of them have a place in the fabric of this sacred space? Why then did he feel betrayed? What was this strange emotion stealing through him? Why did he feel something like a deep abiding sadness? A sense of ineffable loss?

On the dias neither Commander Tucker nor Sub-Commander T'Pol moved. The diaphanous web that bound them kept them immobile, warm and in a deep state of enforced hibernation. The Master's dark shade stood next to them, wisps of it drifting out to almost caress the milky mist like seeking hands looking for a connection. All the while forming shadowy clouds on an horizon they could not see.

The Ambassador watched. Silent and patient but not calm. His whole thought process was in turmoil. Belief that the Master's Grand Scheme was an expression of perfection out of chaos no longer held true in his mind. An infinite world of sparkling variables now coalesced into little more than pawns on a chess board. He had no words to express how that offended his flawed overview of the divine. He could not cry. Was incapable of what passed for Human emotion. But there was some deep intrinsic equivalent that stirred from somewhere in the mists of time and gravitated like an old remembered heartache in the last echoes of organic sentience before his mind shut down. It was the only escape left to him.

***

She was numb. Not cold exactly but not warm either. Sub-Commander T'Pol found thinking took so much energy and effort that each word had to be formed with great deliberation before she could move on to form the next one. Her mind was heavy and growing heavier, a dull throbbing ache at the base of her skull that grew more intense as she tried to shepherd her will to resist it. It would be easier by far to succumb. Let the numbness complete its' circuit. She was already in thrall, physically incapacitated. But she would not yield her mind. Maintaining calm was difficult but not impossible. She was Vulcan. She could do this. She *had* to do this. As soon as she had sensed danger T'Pol had plunged her thoughts deep, diving into places locked within places, chambers that led her farther and farther from the danger stalking her with such intensity. Each room in her mind being locked and barred against the enemy on her metaphorical heels. Deeper and deeper she went, burrowing into her psyche and growing steadily calmer as the threat was slowed down until finally she reached the one santuary that could not be breached.

Perspiration glowed on her still flesh. The only outward sign of the inward expenditure of effort. Her heart was thudding chaotically but forced calm by the descending mist. Her body freezing and no long capable of obeying even the simplist instuction. Her body now mirroring the mind's calm though her mind was free to function, buried deep in its' hidden sanctuary. Carefully she abstracted her thoughts from any emotional attachment and from that distant perspective witnessed the fawning intent of the entity who would manipulate her and the Commander to his will. The Commander. Her heart almost stalled with a pain not born of any physical injury. Trip. Part of her wanted to reach for him mentally but she blocked off the urge. In his current state she would only be able to brush the surface of his mind. It would make her vulnerable to the Master who, detecting her, would realise she maintained an inner control that was resisting him.

The enforced passivity sharpened her wits. She felt the dark energy of the Master swirl slowly through her benumbed senses. Insidiously sifting its' way through the architecture of her mind as if checking that she was fully under his control. T'Pol was careful not to betray herself. Another life hung in the balance and was totally dependant, albeit unknowingly, on her subtle skills. She would not let him down. Would not. Could not. Failure was not an option. The dark presence lingered as if memorising and savouring the unique shape of her mind, touching here and there to spark off fragments of memory and conscious thought like playing a recording over and over in order to miss nothing. Thankfully he at last moved on, only a wisp of darkness lingering in her mind like a sentry keeping guard while the Master progressed. An unwelcome invader plunging deeper, not into her mind this time but through the very cells and pores of her physical being. Part of her was baffled by this unwelcome exploration. The Master's intent unclear, his presence flowing slowly through her veins, in the pulse of her neutered heartbeat, following the trail of her organs and the muscles linked by the efficiency of her Vulcan nervous system.

It was terrifying but objectifying the intrusion gave her a measure of control that she clung to with grim tenacity. She was unsure what to do. How to combat such a threat and not leave both herself and the Commander further disadvantaged. Any sign that she was cognisant of the Master might imperil them both. What did he want? Why all the deception and manipulation? What was it that she was failing to see? What mirror blinded her vision to the entity's true intent?

***

The doctor felt frustrated. The emotional intensity triggering similar feelings in the Captain and Lieutenant. For a few moments their minds were silent, absorbing the impact of their failure. Dr Phlox broke the stagnation, his thought forming a ripple of sadness and frustration that they all shared. *I cannot reach the Commander. They have him in some kind of statis*

*What about the Sub-Commander?* Asked the Captain.

*T'Pol has either locked her consciousness away or was not quick enough to prevent her mind being siezed*

*Siezed?* Said Lt Reed in alarm.

*A poor choice of words* Dr Phlox tried to compensate. *Their physical bodies are in thrall and I can only conclude their minds must be likewise immobilised*

Lt Reed felt a surge of sorrow, so deep it was almost painful for the Captain to bear. If the Armoury Officer was aware of causing any discomfort he did not show it. *We have failed them*

Dr Phlox's thoughts were a soothing balm to the agony of anticipated loss assailing the two Humans. *No. This is a set-back, no more*

*What can we do?* Asked the Captain.

*There is only one thing we can do*

Silence fell in all three minds as the Denobulan drew both men into a non-physical meld that caused their outward bodies to collapse insensate on the cushions. But their minds. Their minds were safe. Held in a bond with the Denobulan that no longer allowed for a single thought to be individually expressed. He knew he should have asked first but some instinct warned him he did not have time for the niceties of alien culture. They were on a rescue mission and even in a region of space that did not observe the conventions of time the period left to them to act was running out.

***

Kantak froze for a moment and simply stared at the spectacle before him. He had become anxious when he could no longer feel the Ambassador's thoughts in his mind. The lack was like a physical amputation. Concerned, he had hurried to the Grand Audience Chamber. Now he stood and stared at the tableau before him. Ambassador Chot was standing, his upper torso leaning forward at an odd angle. It was not the deep bow reserved for the Master. It was more the angle of a broken thing. A wind up toy that had run out of steam. Quickly the major domo glided across the crystal floor aware that the Master was on the dias, two misty white enshrouded lifeforms standing immobile next to him. He could not tell what the Master was doing with them but for now his attention was fixed on the Ambassador.

"Ambassador! What is wrong?"

There was no response. Almost trembling, Kantak dared to extend a hand and touched the Ambassador's shoulder but there was no flickering of his electrical current. Alarmed, Kantak tried to right him but he could not do so. He paused and considered the problem then moved round to face the Ambassador. Carefully he lifted the head but no semblance of life echoed back at him. He sub-vocalised but his thoughts came bouncing back to him with the odd echo of touching an empty vessel. Though he could not account for it he was suddenly sure of one thing. Ambassador Chot was dead. Not a single tremor of life filled that once vibrant and powerful body. Kantak bowed to his Ambassador one last time. "What terrible thing has taken you from us, old friend?" His voice was a whisper. His thoughts a whirl of images he could not process. "Why did you do this? Extinguish a life so full of promise and on the brink of all the power you could dream of?"

There was, of course, no answer. After time unmeasured had passed, he straightened and approached the dias with caution. Now that he was closer he could see the two trapped figures were from Enterprise. He recognised the Human Chief Engineer and was startled to see that the other was the Vulcan, Sub-Commander T'Pol. He watched the Master's dark energy swirling around them and felt a vague discomfort. He did not dare to extend his consciousness to find out what the Master was doing. But as a sign of respect to the departed Ambassador Chot he would remain to bear witness.

***

Trip was sluggish. His thoughts not his to control. Everything was so vague and heavy. He could not open his eyes, nor move a muscle in his body yet his muscles *were* moving. His nerve endings prickling and firing in little spasms along his neural network like sparks looking for a source of ignition. What the hell? He had no sensation of up or down, hot or cold, fear or joy. There was only this confusion. Coupled with the slow certaintly that he was beginning to get very horny.

The Master had tried without success to excite the female but the Vulcan was impervious to him and totally non-responsive. Now he was exploring the Human Commander, his energy lapping first at the mind of the engineer. Touching that sleeping consciousness and delving into memories and feelings that told him he had made the correct choice. He chased the network of his nervous system, mapping the Human inside and out and learning swiftly how to manipulate him to get the responses he could not engender in the Vulcan. He would use the engineer to manipulate the Vulcan. A feeling of satisfaction stole over him. The male would be much easier to control. As his energy flowed inside the engineer he began to prompt and excite him, feeling the Human's body begin to awaken. Now came the tricky part. The Master awoke the Commander only enough to allow movement and some articulation. He kept his mind foggy, his thoughts blurry and clouded so that his resistence to motivation would be nullified.

Trip opened his eyes and saw T'Pol. The Vulcan had her eyes closed. Appeared to be asleep but how could that be possible? Did Vulcans sleep standing up? He had never heard of such a thing but what did it matter? She was there, he was there, and all he wanted right now was to be with her. No other thought was in his head. He moved as if in a dreamstate, a hand reaching out to cradle her beloved face. His fingers gentle as they caressed her skin. She did not move, nor wake, and for a moment something about it felt wrong but he could not grasp what. "T'Pol? Come on, darlin', speak to me."

His hushed words evoked no response. Trip closed the short distance between them and brought his body against hers, his arms going round her, his eyes closing in bliss as he whispered in a voice husky with lust in her ear.

"Oh God, T'Pol, do ya know how much I love ya?"

Then he was kissing her ear. His tongue gently teasing wet warmth around the inside of that exotic shell before lapping at the canal. His hands now exploring that treasured landscape while in his mind he was reliving the last time they had made love. He ached. Oh God how he ached for her. His thoughts reached for hers but they were non responsive. Thinking she was surely asleep he decided to wake her up as inventively and lovingly as a good old southern boy could do. He chuckled softly and imagined her eyes openly slowly with lust, his right hand sliding down inside the front of her skin tight slacks as he gently brought his lips to hers in a passion filled kiss. On some level T'Pol became aware of him. Her Ashayam. Even while she fought to keep her consciousness locked away her body was betraying her, needing to respond with every fibre of her being.

***

The sense of shock was phenomenal but Dr Phlox managed to keep calm and not break the union he had forced with the Captain and Lieutenant. It did not matter what was happening between the Commander and Sub-Commander. In fact, it could work in their favour. While their love making distracted the Master he would attempt to make contact with them and jolt them out of the unnatural state which bound them. At least. That was the plan.

***

As he watched the two aliens in the deepening throes of passion, Kantak allowed his gaze to return to the Ambassador. He could not restore his life to him but he could perform for him one last service. With almost exaggerated care the major domo drew back his thick heavy cloak. Energy sparked and crackled like lightening bolts held in subdued orbits. He reached out to the Ambassador and formed a last link with him, downloading the last memories and impulses from his brain before that too lost the last echoes of life. Saddened, the major domo closed his cloak and stepped back. Looking for an area of shadow to retreat to so that he could absorb his friend's last thoughts and perhaps make sense of his death.

The Master took no notice of anything but the figures on the dias. He gloried in their slow exotic mating, let his mind monitor their thoughts and feelings, the pump of blood running a riot through their excited bodies sending tendrils of almost forgotten need through him. A need quickly quashed as extraneous, unnecessary. A memory of what once was and could never be again. There was never any use in indulging in what had gone before. There was only what was, what would be and what *could* be. The Xindi had served their purpose. All the experimentation and manipulation had provided him with only one thing: cannon fodder. The brighter intelligences he had sought still eluded him. Now. Here. With the Vulcan and Human joining he could see far more possibilities. A new species he could form to take advantage of the strengths of both species while he would extract and discard the weaknesses. The cradle of flesh that would emerge would at last give him the chance to experience one more time the pleasure of physical existence.

All this. All of the endless searches across time and space. The manipulation. The co-ordination of distant functions between species as alien to each other as he was to mortal life. Now his search was over. The efforts expended were about to bear fruit. These two lovers would provide the vehicle of his release. Afterwards, untold universes would learn his true name and shudder to their knees before his less than divine purpose. Smug and confident the Master dipped back into the fevered impassioned minds and revelled in their bonding. Curious and drawn to the joining of the male seed with the female ovaries. Watching and encouraging their passion as Trip braced his legs, T'Pol wrapping her legs around his waist as he carefully entered her body. The slide of his hot length in her molten core was glorious. Her interior muscles drawing him in deep, sweat pouring off his face as he began to slowly pump into her while her nails dug into his back. Their clothing a forgotten bundle on the dias floor. T'Pol adjusted her weight to enable Trip to keep his balance, her words echoing in his mind as she gently urged him on. Giving up all pretence of refusing him.

It mattered not that they were being manipulated. Both were caught up fully now in T'Pol's pon frell. The merciless demands of her sex on him back on Enterprise were nothing compared to what now passed between them. All her Vulcan mating instincts heightened and prolonged by the Master adding to their sexual drives and increasing the urge to copulate, to mate, to drive each other senseless with desire. T'Pol was biting him now but Trip hardly felt it, the brief pain of her teeth just adding another edge to his passion. He was driven wild with lust for her, the Vulcan encouraging him with her superior muscle control, massaging his pumping organ with internal muscles that gripped and flexed around his penis until he was pumping so hard that even though he was coming hard he could not stop. She bit down deep into his shoulder, drawing blood, his hips jerked harder, deeper, faster. He could not see for the sweat running in his eyes and down his face like tears.

At last his legs would hold him no more and they collapsed to the dias floor but she would not let him go. Her muscles held him fast so he could not withdraw. Pain vaguely registered in his back brain but already she was using her Vulcan biology to bring him hard once more inside her. Trip groaned but could not resist her, his depleted energy being refueled by the Master who was intermingling his dark vaporous energy with theirs. They did not notice. Oblivious to everything but each other. T'Pol rolled Trip onto his back and her eyes smiled down at him. He was gasping but so happy he thought his heart would burst. *I love ya T'Pol*

*As I do you, Ashayam*

Then she was biting his lips, her hands sliding over his slick flesh, fingers pinching his nipples as her interior muscles flexed around him making him cry out. *Oh God, T'Pol...*

*Come for me, Ashayam, fill me*

He was rapidly hardening inside that hot channel of want and need, her body rocking encouraging his hips to draw a delicious slide between those flexing muscles. He was leaking again, his jism mixing with their spent juices while a new orgasm was slowly building. He was tired but unable to stop. T'Pol however was tireless, aggressive, insatiable. He was sure this was the day he was going to die but he was damned if he would regret a single moment of it. Any time spent with T'Pol was a gift he would not squander. Even if his life depended on it. *Oh T'Pol, I gotta have ya, always*

*You are slowing down Ashayam* She rebuked.

He was amused at the hint of irritation in her voice. *That so, huh?*

*If you are unable to perform your primary function, Commander, perhaps I should seek a younger bond mate to satisfy me?*

He growled and pumped harder, her legs coming up to hug his waist. He gritted his teeth with the effort and paused just long enough to ease her legs over his shoulders. She wanted penetration he would give her penetration. She gasped, he smiled, both getting out of breath but so close. In a sudden frenzy T'Pol gripped him and flexed her muscles one last time as he stiffened, a deep gutteral groan escaped tired lips then his spine snapped and he errupted inside her as he came. Her own orgasm triggered by his as they clung to each other, minds adrift with the sheer intensity of their mating. He was already blacking out. Finally T'Pol was content to release him, her interior muscles relaxing, her hands stroking his sweat soaked face while she kissed his closed eyelids.

Gently she rolled him onto his back and got off him only long enough to lay more comfortably beside him, her arms wrapped possessively round him, her eyes glazing over as sleep pulled at her senses. Her sated body draping over his. Reluctant to give up bodily contact for even a moment. If she could have she would have become one flesh with him. Unable to change their biology she made herself content to wrap herself around him and join her Ashayam in sleep. The Master watched with satisfaction. He wanted to gather the genetic material then and there but was reluctant to move them just yet. He spun more of the milky vapour around them, binding them in sleep the one to the other. They would not now awake unless he chose to allow them to do so.

Only as he moved away from the couple did he realise that Ambassador Chot was still in the room. Not only that but he looked to be non functioning. He did not move from the dias but extended his dark energy to touch him. There was nothing. No response. With a sense of shock he realised the Ambassador was dead. Extending his senses he attempted to absorb whatever still lingered of the Ambassadors' thoughts but to his surprise the receptical was empty. A slow deep rage began to burn through him. For now Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol were forgotten. Someone had stolen Ambassador Chot's thoughts. His memories. He swept the Grand Audience Chamber with his sharpened senses but there was no one else in the room. Leaving the bound couple on the dias, the Master quickly gathered his dark mass and went on the hunt. He would find the thief and take back what was stolen. It would not do for anyone else to discover the blueprint Ambassador Chot had carried. In that knowledge lay the fate not only of the Delphic Expanse but all the species that would ever come into contact with it.


	27. Unbound

Minds bound in a single purpose, Dr Phlox tried again. This time focusing only on the Sub-Commander. He was afraid the more emotional Commander would make contact difficult. He needed pin sharp connection not a broadband swell of emotional feedback that would leak out of the confines of his iron control and alert their enemy. He could sense Lt Reed and Captain Archer's dry response to his evaluation but neither were able to voice any kind of descent. He pushed out their conjoined energies in a tight beam, cutting through all the layers of defence the Vulcan had built up in her mind. Impressed he sailed through them, knowing the key to approaching the more hidden depths until he reached that inner sanctum. What he found when he got there surprised him so much he almost broke out of the trance.

"Glad ya could make it, doc. We almost gave up on ya."

The Denobulan mentally blinked. *Trip? What are you doing here?*

*It was the logical solution* Explained the Sub-Commander.

Dr Phlox sensed a kind of brightening of their auras and knew with sudden certainty that they were well and truly bonded. That knowledge eased his sense of shock and brought him a deep kind of joy. He now understood fully how two minds could occupy the fortress of one formidable consciousness. He felt a swell of pride in his protegy. *This is most unexpected, T'Pol, but very welcome news indeed*

They sensed his huge v-shaped smile in their minds and he felt their silent laughter caress briefly a mind that had become far too grim of late. He did not dare indulge his pleasure in their bonding and distract himself from the primary purpose with the hundreds of questions he could level at them on that very subject. *Do you know where you are?*

*We are on Zeon, in the Grand Audience Chamber*

The doctor thought about that for a moment. *Can you get out to the planet surface?*

*Doc, we can't even get outta each other's arms!"

That surprised him. *You can't?*

*We seem to be bound together* Said T'Pol, her thoughts calm not agitated as he would have expected under the circumstances. Paradoxically, it seemed to be her joining to the Commander that gave her such admirable control.

*There's some kind'a stuff around us. Like a milky white mist if ya know what I mean. We can't move our bodies an' our minds only escaped because T'Pol moved so quick*

*A wise precaution and necessary. Do you know that they plan to do with you? Why you are here?*

He sensed a reluctance in the Vulcan but Trip had no such reservation. *They want our genetic material, doc*

A tendril of fear slid down the connection. If he could have he would have shuddered at the thought knowing only too well how disastrous such a thing would be.

*Doc? What is it you an' T'Pol aren't tellin' me?*

*There will be plenty of time to indulge in speculation once we get you out of there*

*How are you going to do that?* Asked T'Pol.

Dr Phlox allowed his mind to fall silent for a moment. Sensing the very same question from Lt Reed and Captain Archer. It was a very good question.

***

The Xindi Captain was surprised at the sudden appearance of their visitor. The Chancellor was respectful but suspicious, though he was careful not to antagonise the Maker. "How may we serve you, excellency?" The Chancellor asked, eyes glittering darkly while keeping his expression carefully neutral.

"We need to talk." Said Kantak.

"We are beyond talking." The mammalian Xindi responded. All fired up with the next stage of the Master's plan for the Humans he was impatient to continue.

The insectoid Xindi was poised to do whatever was needful to make the Master's plan fact. The Humans were a danger, a menace. Their enemy. Only their complete and utter annihilation gave the Xindi race a chance to survive. He would allow nothing to compromise that outcome. The aquatic Xindi floated to the edge of their tank and watched the Zenari intently. They wanted to know his purpose in coming but would not insult him by asking.

"You have been manipulated."

They knew that but it was a price they would willingly pay. They owed the Makers their allegiance and total obedience if not their existence. Only the Xindi Captain seemed to have reservations. "Speak, excellency, and enlighten us."

Kantak bowed slightly and all of the Xindi responded in kind. Now hushed, waiting to hear whatever message they were to be given. As Kantak straightened there could be no mistaking his deep aura of sadness. "Ambassador Chot is dead."

Shock raced through his audience. "What happened?" Barked the Chancellor.

"He discovered the Master's true plan."

They looked bewildered. *True* plan? Kantak could not blame them. Was not sure he would survive the revelation he brought with him. The insectoid Xindi spoke in his unique clicks and burrs: a question. "The Master killed him?"

Kantak shook his head. "No. The revelation did."

The Xindi Captain took a step towards him then stopped. Not wishing to show disrespect but needing to know what he was talking about. "What revelation, excellency?"

"I carry the residue, the last gift I can give you from him."

Touched by emotion none spoke. Kantak took a moment to steady his energy. "The Ambassador was encoded with the Master's plan."

"This we know." Said the mammalian Xindi respectfully.

"No, my friends, you do not." The sudden hardening of his voice drew their attention. "I will reveal the truth to you that you may better understand the nature of your betrayal."

They exchanged looks. Disturbed and unsettled by his words. None spoke. Kantak spread his arms out and lifted his head. The dark cloak shifted, electric blue light flashed in his robe, the air crackled with dark energy. Sparks flew from his fingers and his aspect grew indistinct as a screen of light appeared between him and the Xindi. Upon that screen unfurled the Ambassador's thoughts. A message left for them all, the blueprint forming in the air between them as the disembodied voice of the now departed Ambassador informed them of a deceit the magnitude of which almost broke them.

The Chancellor wanted to denounce the revelation but could not fashion words. They stuck in his throat, lodged deep by shock. Could it be true? He looked at the Xindi Captain who seemed to be the only one among them able to function. "How do we know this is true, excellency?" He asked quietly.

"Because the Ambassador died to send this last message to you." He paused. "We are immortal so know that cessation of such life is not an aberration but a permanent gift. We shall not see his like again--not in any universe or time you can possibly imagine. His essence is gone, all but this tiny reliquary that now resides in me."

The aquatic Xindi nearest the glass nodded solemnly. "Then you are in danger."

"As are we all." Kantak responded solemnly.

The mammalian Xindi looked troubled. "What can we do? We have come so far and the bomb is almost ready. The Humans will soon be wiped from history."

"No. We must not take that last step."

"How can we defy the Master?" Said the Chancellor darkly.

"How can we not?"

All heads turned to stare at the Xindi Captain. "I suspected something was not right but even I could not have dreamed of such corruption. We have been used. We have been altered, changed and then discarded. Over and over again. For this one purpose."

"You do not know that." Said the mammalian Xindi.

"The revelation speaks otherwise. Look at the blueprint!"

"We thought the Humans destroyed our homeworld." Said the insectoid Xindi sharply. "We would have done anything to wipe them out so that we might survive."

"Their Captain was telling the truth." Said the Xindi Captain, his reptillian lips drawing back to show sharp teeth as he bit back the pain of perfect recall. "Even though we tested him and found he did not lie still we did not believe him."

"We released him." Said the Chancellor in mitigation.

"No," Said their Captain. "We sent him back in trade."

A long pained silence followed. It was the thoughtful voice of the Chancellor who broke it. "What do we do now?"

***

The Master was well pleased. Soon the Expanse would tremble to the sound of his name. All species that entered it would pay tribute to him. Everything would exist to serve him. It would be an exquisite revenge on ancient laws. A vindication of his own place in the universe. The one he would surely carve out for himself. He would keep the Human and the Vulcan in thrall. Allowing them only moments of freedom in their lifetime to create and furnish the material he would need to extend his plan. To create the future he wanted that had been so long denied him. The Xindi had been useful but imperfect. He had been forced to create many versions in order to glean all the properties from their race to best serve his needs. They were the warriors he could not be. He was the God-like Creator who could do no wrong. Now he would create a higher species. One that would be bound to him for Eternity. One among whom he would have no equal.

***

Captain Archer tried to speak through the trinity but his thoughts remained mute and isolated. Lt Reed had the same restrictions. Individually they cursed Dr Phlox. Reduced to the sidelines like spectators while their mental energy was pooled to enable the doctor to achieve what could not be accomplished alone.

*What d'ya mean ya can't bring us back?*

*Be calm, Trip...*

*Calm? Doc they're about to cut us open to take out our genetic material! Or rather, cut open T'Pol, an' you're tellin' me there's nothin' ya can do to help us?"

Dr Phlox felt miserable but refused to accept defeat. He decided he would have to chance direct communication with other members of Enterprise's crew. They had simply run out of options and were now in danger of running out of time as well. Sub-Commander T'Pol knew his mind, understood and did not add to his burden by transmitting those thoughts. Trip on the other hand didn't know that and was frustrated. T'Pol clothed him in her loving calm, her thoughts cradling his more chaotic ones and taking the sting out of his irritation. Oddly enough it freed him to think more clearly though even he could think of no solution to their current predicament. *Be patient* The doctor urged.

Without waiting for their response the Denobulan released his hold on his companions brought himself, Lt Reed and the Captain out of the deep trance state. He blinked his eyes and took a moment for his multiple retinas to focus. Lt Reed sat up sluggishly then shot the doctor an injured look. "Why did you do that?"

The doctor was amazingly calm. Not a trace of discomfort or guilt over manipulating him and the Captain. For the time being he had been serving a higher cause. The Captain groaned, stirred, then stretched slowly as he opened his eyes. "What can we do? You heard Trip, we can't leave them there."

"We will have to risk using the transporter, Captain."

The Captain agreed and quickly activated the com. All thought about keeping their conversations from the Master had been relegated to the sidelines. They knew they did not have much time if they were to save their friends and possibly the entire Human Race. Travis answered the com. "Yes, Captain?"

"Travis, get to the transporter room and meet us there."

Without asking any questions Travis handed over his post at the helm to his beta shift counterpart and hurried to the transporter room. He got there just as the Captain, Dr Phlox and Lt Reed arrived. He wondered why they needed him if Lt Reed was there but was not about to question his Captain's order. He found out soon enough when Dr Phlox explained how he wanted Travis to triangulate their information to secure a lock on their missing crew members. Ensign Mayweather looked doubtful but patched in the co-ordinates, noting that the three officers looked pretty worn out. Captain Archer hovered impatiently at this shoulder as he tried again and again to get a lock. He looked up at their expectent faces. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't get a lock."

Lt Reed stepped up to the instrument panel to see if he could help when suddenly Travis went pale.

"Travis?"

"Uh sorry, Captain."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Asked the Captain.

"Are you sure about those co-ordinates, sir?"

Lt Reed and Captain Archer looked at the doctor. The Denobulan nodded firmly. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

Travis looked down at the control panel and cleared his throat carefully, the bottom falling out of his world as he pushed the unwelcome words passed his numb lips. "The Commander and Sub-Commander are no longer there."

***

The Xindi were silent now. Having heard everything Kantak had to tell them and witnessing the thoughts and memories of the now deceased Ambassador they listened to the Zenari's solution. He expected them to argue, to threaten and grow violent, to tell him to his face that he was crazy but none of these things happened. He stared at them in surprise when they conversed in their various sub-dialects and came to the same conclusion. The Xindi Captain spoke for them all. "The weapon is configured to operate on Human DNA. We do not know how it will affect other species."

"It is not the biological component that is necessary for this task." Said Kantak gravely. "Is the explosive yield sufficient to the task?"

The Xindi looked at each other. They were used to the Zenari telling them what to do not the other way around. Having a Maker ask for their opinion was a new concept but one they absorbed without judgement. "Not in its' present form but there is a distillation of Trellium that would greatly amplify the effect."

"Enough to be sufficient?"

The Chancellor nodded. "Yes. It will take all our stockpiled resources but yes, it will do what you require, excellency."

"Then do it."

It took minutes only to reconfigure the biological warhead to carry the Trellium though it had to be done carefully for it was being used in its' most volatile liquid state. The aquatic Xindi expressed his concern. "Will it not detonate the moment we launch it?"

"I can use my energy to both stablise it until it reaches its' target as well as mask it from detection. Launch it now!"

The Xindi Captain gave the order, Kantak reached out with his energy and the Chancellor suggested they move out of the area that would be caught up in the shockwave. As they did so, the Xindi Captain asked permission to contact the Human starship. Kantak did not open his eyes or break his concentration but nodded. Captain Archer was surprised and shocked to be contacted by the Xindi Captain. "Captain Archer, if you value the lives of yourself and your crew you will remove yourselves from this vicinity."

Captain Archer gritted his teeth. "No way in hell am I leaving any of my crew behind on that planet!"

"Captain, they are not on the planet. Just withdraw and you will understand."

The communication went dead. The Captain stared at Dr Phlox and Lt Reed. Travis pursed his lips together and said what the others were thinking out loud. "How did he know that?"

Making a snap decision Captain Archer told Travis to get back to the helm and move them as far away as possible. They followed the boomer to the bridge and as they were withdrawing from the area a massive white light filled the bridge then the air around them concussed and the ship shook violently. Hoshi cried out and when the moment had passed took a hand from her ear, alarmed to see it was covered in blood where her ears had bled. The Captain was furious. "Lt Reed, what was that?"

The Lieutenant had resumed his tactical station and was rapidly checking the readouts, his face going both still and white. The Captain thought his hands were shaking.

"Lieutenant?"

Lt Reed looked up at him, clearly upset. "It's Zeon, Captain."

"What about it?"

"It's gone, sir. The Xindi have blown it to bits."

Silence fell like a lead blanket. Shocked faces stared in abject horror. Just then the Xindi ship hailed them. "You blew up an entire planet." He said quietly. "What was that? A demonstration of what you intend to do to Earth?"

The Xindi Captain just stared back at him for a moment. "No, Captain. We made a mistake. It was not your people who destroyed our homeworld 400 years from now."

Captain Archer was confused. "I don't understand."

"Neither did we." The Xindi Captain looked mournful, a deep pained sadness to his movements that baffled the Human. "But you *will* understand."

"Yes, but..."

The image on the screen was cut before he could ask any more questions. However the Xindi Captain kept the audio com open just long enough for his final words to echo in Captain's Archer'e head. "We are returning your crew members to you, Captain. Leave this space before the Expanse recovers and you are trapped forever. Do not come looking for us ever again. You will *not* find us."

Then all communication ceased. Before the Captain could think of anything to say a white diaphanous mist began to fill the bridge. It was thicker in the middle than at the edges. Alarmed, the Captain was glad to see it was starting to dissipate. Still too thick to peer through he clearly heard Lt Reed's voice. "Bloody hell!"

The mist cleared. And there. In the middle of the bridge wrapped around each other as if their very lives depended on it were his Chief Engineer and Science Officer. The only thing bigger than the shock of seeing their safe return was the fact that both of them were naked.

"Oh my God!" Murmured the stunned Captain. Hoshi put a hand over her mouth, her painful ears forgotten as she took in the expressions on everyone's faces. Dr Phlox smiled happily, his eyes sparkling brightly with humour and relief. "Ah Commander, Sub-Commander, so happy you could join us!"

Trip blinked in the bright light. Stunned and just coming to his senses. Still hanging on to a more slowly reviving Sub-Commander. Her diminutive stature moulded so perfectly to his own lean form. Reluctant to release her. He realised they had no clothes on and flushed, eyes widening. He tightened his hold on T'Pol protectively and looked at Ensign Sato. "Hoshi? D'ya think ya could get us some clothes?"

The Captain's lips quirked up with humour. Only Trip could end up in a situation like this even when he was literally snatched out of the jaws of death. He was going to enjoy hearing Trip and T'Pol's story almost as much as he was looking forward to teasing his friend. But first. First he needed to make sure they were both alright then he wanted some answers.

***

The Captain, Commander Tucker, Sub-Commander T'Pol, Lt Reed, Dr Phlox, Ensigns Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather were all gathered in the Captain's ready room. Hoshi could not resist tilting her head and casting a mischievous sideways glance at the Chief Engineer. "Commander Tucker?"

He looked up at her and gave a little half smile. "Yeah, what is it Hoshi?"

She gave him a sweet smile as they took their places around the table. "Nothing, I just wanted to check it was you. I almost didn't recognise you with your clothes on."

He opened his mouth to protest as he started to flush. A small cool hand on his arm calmed him. He turned his head and looked down at T'Pol, a wealth of understanding exchanged in that one cherished look. He glanced back at Hoshi and gave her a full blown smile. "Good to be back, Hoshi."

Captain Archer cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "I speak for all the crew when I say how happy we are to have Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol back with us. I have *no* idea how I'm going to complete my report to the Admiral."

"Uh, sir? Do we *have* to tell him?" Asked Trip.

A few smirks around the table faded slowly as the Captain resisted the urge to go down the obvious route. "Well, we have to tell him something Commander. For example, how do we explain that we don't think the Xindi are a threat to Earth any more?"

Lt Reed spoke up quickly. "Perhaps we should hold back on that, sir."

"Why, Lieutenant?"

"It may be a little premature to say the danger is over, Captain. After all we only have their word for it that they were subject to the same kinds of manipulation we were."

"I agree with Lt Reed, Captain." Asserted T'Pol.

Captain Archer raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I thought you would be one of the first to reassess our views of the Xindi, Sub-Commander?"

"These are unusual circumstances, Captain, and I would remind you that there is positive as well as negative manipulation. The Zenari tutored the Xindi. We cannot expect centuries of such control to be wiped away with one act of seeming compassion."

"Which brings us to what the Xindi told you and Trip when they rescued you from Zeon."

"Ambassador Kantak was able to throw some light on the situation, Captain. It seems the non-corporeal lifeform known as the Master of the Void had manipulated the Zenari who in turn did the same to the Xindi. They had also interferred with other races in this and other dimensions and times but this area is unique."

"We've all experienced examples of the Expanse's *unique* properties." Agreed the Captain.

"It would seem the Master was not a God, a deity, a *higher* lifeform if you will. Ambassador Chot discovered who and what he was and the revelation so shocked and distressed him that he withdrew his lifeforce and died. Though not before leaving a record in his consciousness for Kantak, his successor. Kantak retrieved the thoughts and memories of the departed Ambassador and as is their custom absorbed that information into his own essence. What he discovered was this. The Master was cast out of another dimension for crimes so heinous they would warrant certain death but he is non-corporeal and immortal. You could not shoot him, hang him, poison him or cut off his head. Traditional methods of execution do not work when there is no physical body involved. Therefore they needed a form of punishment to fit the exotic nature of this evil being. The Delphic Expanse has been referred to by the Zenari and the Xindi as *sacred space*. This was a fabrication by the Master to elevate his place of internment to something that would instill awe in those he wished to impress. The Expanse has such diverse and complicated properties because nothing less would contain him."

Everybody looked stunned. Travis' mouth dropped open. "Are you saying this is a PRISON?"

The Sub-Commander nodded. "Yes. A prison in which the Master was bound for all eternity for crimes so terrible that it involved the annihilation of whole species and the destruction not only of planets but at times entire galaxies."

For a while no one said anything. At last the Captain nodded for T'Pol to continue.

"As far as I can gather from Ambassador Kantak with time having no meaning for the Master he had all eternity to plan his escape. This he intended to do by seeking out a lifeform with the potential to house his non-corporeal essence."

"Excuse me," Interrupted Lt Reed. "Are you talking about possession?"

The Sub-Commander raised an eyebrow. "A not inaccurate description, Lieutenant, except this lifeform wanted to find a suitable species then grow a body to his specific requirements. He would then occupy that body and use it as a means to extricate himself from this elaborate prison."

"A kind'a Trojan Horse." Said Trip thoughtfully. "What I don't get is how he thought he'd fool anyone? I mean, the Xindi say we're as trapped in here as they are."

Dr Phlox smiled. "Ah, but you forget something Commander."

Everybody turned to look at the doctor.

"They lie. Just think of when we were on Zeon. Had their claims been truthful none of us would have escaped from that world and returned to Enterprise."

"Pretty elaborate lies, doc." Said Trip.

"Yes, but for a lifeform that cannot die and is doomed to spend eternity in prison the lies were also a form of entertainment. A way to pass time."

"At our expense." Said Travis.

"At *everybody's* expense." Corrected the Captain.

Lt Reed looked around the table slowly. "What happens now? Do we notify the M.A.C.O.s waiting on the edge of the Expanse to return to Earth?"

The Captain gave his Armoury Officer a wry smile. "No, Lieutenant, we don't. If this is another lie I don't want to be caught out without the extra firepower they can provide. Remember, we're not out here just for ourselves. If this is another sleight of hand I don't want Earth to pay the price of our carelessness."

***

It had been a truly long, exhausting day and not just because of the endless talking and discussions with the Captain and the others. Trip found physical communication quite a cumbersome affair after being linked mentally with T'Pol. They were at last in the Sub-Commander's quarters. He watched as the woman he loved more than life itself lit the meditation candle. Both were in their sleepware. They meditated for an hour, hands reaching out to touch each other as they rose slowly out of their bonded trance. His skin tingled wherever she touched him, her skin glowed. Eyes fastened on each other, hearts beating in time, thoughts merging in a beautiful endless sea of consciousness. T'Pol put the candle to one side. Trip moved forward on the cushion and dipped his head to kiss those plush lips, one hand ghosting through her short hair as their tongues began a slow erotic dance, while his other hand slid down her belly.

The smile against his lips could not be imagined. His heart soared as she undressed him. Hers relaxed into complete joy when he gently disrobed her. Their warm flesh cradled against each other as they slowly made love. *Do you know how much I love ya, T'Pol?*

*We have six point four hours for you to tell me, Ashayam*

He chuckled gently in her mind, his hand dipping between her legs and finding her moist and ready for him, her hips arching so she could rub herself against his hand. His fingers slid between the warm folds and sought out the complex bundle of nerves that liquified her spine and made her tremble inside with want and need. Their kiss deepened. She hummed in his mind, such joy and deep content that between them words were not necessary.

***

Lt Reed was thoughtful as he watched the stars go by. He did not turn his head as Dr Phlox joined him on the observation deck. "Unable to sleep, Lieutenant?"

"I couldn't help thinking. We didn't wipe out the Xindi homeworld so who did?"

The doctor's eyes glittered but not with pleasure. There was a gravity there as his natural good humour was twisted into something akin to physical pain. "That was the entity known as the Master. Though I do not imagine he performed the task himself."

"What do you mean?"

The Doctor pulled a face and straightened his back before responding. "This being likes to manipulate other species into doing his dirty work for him. Look how he used the Xindi. Deliberately destroying their homeworld in the future in order to manipulate them in the present."

"But why us? The Xindi had never even heard of us before. How did this entity know about Humans?"

"It knew about Vulcans too."

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to the Lieutenant. "Everybody keeps on saying the Zenari lie. So do the Xindi and so obviously does this non-corporeal lifeform."

"Your point, Lieutenant?"

"What if the Expanse was meant to be a prison but the Master has found a way in and out? What if he only pretends to be imprisoned?"

"Why would you think that?"

"It would explain how he knows about species he would otherwise never have met."

"You forget about time travel."

Lt Reed nodded and accepted the diversion like an olive branch. "Yes, of course. Time travel."

Long after the Lieutenant had left him the doctor stood gazing out of the stars. The burden of his knowledge even heavier than it had been before. They had escaped this time but so had the enemy. Even with Zeon blasted to smithereens they had no way of knowing if the Master had been injured or destroyed. And if he did have a trap door, an exit and entry no one knew about, who could say what that would mean for the future? But he had no proof. No way of knowing. The doctor sighed softly and knew his place would remain among the Humans for as long as Enterprise needed him. After all. The fate of the Human Race and thus them all might one day depend on it.


End file.
